Belonging
by localsportsteam
Summary: It's difficult enough balancing time as a mermaid and time as human, but Ariel is soon faced with more pressing challenges, like a long-lost suitor, and surrounding political discourse. She and Eric must find a way to stick together in these trying times, or everything may fall apart.
1. Return to the Sea

The third of every month, Ariel went to the sea.

She had been human for about a year now - in fact, that was to be celebrated when she went to visit her family today - and married to Eric for about six months. They had wanted to wed right away, but neither Ariel's sisters nor Carlotta would've forgiven the pair if they didn't let them do _some_ planning with the wedding. The ceremony and celebration ended up being modest in size, but lavishly carried out, and all were satisfied.

Ariel loved her family, and didn't want to spend the rest of her life away from them, so she was very happy at how often she got to see them. And she was especially excited tonight, as she would never pass up a party. She loved socializing and hosting and couldn't imagine a time where she wouldn't enjoy the warmth of the limelight.

"Attina!" she waved, her other hand still holding Eric's.

"Have fun." he squeezed her hand and murmured into her ear. "Miss you as much as always."

"And, as always, I'll be back." she smiled up at him, pecking his cheek. She turned to face the growing group of her family, as more sisters popped up from the waves, swimming as close and they could.

"Hurry up, Ariel!"

"We still have to get you ready!"

"Get _her_ ready? _I_ have to get ready!" Alana huffed.

Ariel laughed. "I'm coming!" she gave Eric one last hug and sprinted to the sea. She hopped up onto a pier and ran faster, faster, faster until she was able to leap right off the end, into the open water. Eric counted the seconds until she broke the surface, tossing her hair back. A soft golden glow emitted around her, as her father appeared with his trident. Within second, she was able to peak her light green fins out of the water and smile.

"Goodbye!" she cried again, flipping below the water.

"Goodbye!" Eric waved. He would miss her, he always did, but at least he had an undistracted day to get the ever-growing piles of correspondence on his desk.

...

Ariel laughed as she raced her sisters back to the palace, swimming loops around each other.

"When does the party start?" she asked.

"Late afternoon. There's a dinner, and then dancing. Then a performance - there's a bunch of singers coming in, I forget who. But Arista picked them, and she says they're -"

"They're really good!"

"Yeah, that's what she keeps saying."

"Basically, we have just enough time to get ready - and get you ready, and then it'll be time to head down."

Ariel laughed. "I'm perfectly capable of doing my own hair and makeup."

"Oh, we know you are!" Adella smiled. "But today is your one year anniversary of being human, and we just want everything to be extra special. Plus, you can't deny, no one is better than Alana at makeup."

Alana beamed proudly at this.

"Okay, fair enough." Ariel conceded.

"We got you a new outfit, too!" Andrina beamed.

Ariel dove down suddenly and retuned with a few flowers. She began tucking them into her sisters' hair and swimming around them. "Oh, you girls are such dreams." she smiled, and the group raced back to the palace.

They all gathered around their mirrors, and Ariel helped the others girls get ready, swatching colors, comparing different styles, and helping style hair. After several hours, every girl was styled at her most elegant, and feeling wonderfully about it.

"Your turn!" Andrina beamed, and all the girls swam over to Ariel, sitting her in front of the mirror.

After 45 minutes, they deemed her complete, and finally allowed Ariel to look at herself. She gasped, and leaned in to make sure it was really her. Her hair and been pulled back and done up with pearls, her skin and been perfected into a soft cream, and her eyes looked brighter and bigger.

"I love it!" she exclaimed, turning around to hug her sisters.

"Careful!" they smiled, hugging her softly back. "Don't mess anything up!"

They dragged her over to the closet next, and dressed in in a flowing purple tea-length skirt and pearl-covered matching top.

"Come on!" Attina insisted, waving the girls over to the door as soon as they were all ready. "The party will start any minute!"

...

The dinner was wonderful, with seven courses and heaps of laughter. Everyone was so excited to see Ariel back - she had always been well-liked in the kingdom, and her returns were most typically shared with family and close friends. People made her promise them dances and private conversations, and Ariel beamed as she agreed to them all.

One man did not talk to her at all through the dinner, but this did not throw Ariel off in any way, as she had only spoken to him once before. In fact, she probably didn't even remember meeting him at all.

Duke Devon did not sit anywhere near Ariel, or any of the sisters for that matter. He was not related the family in any way, his grandfather had gotten the position by some historical folly only his family seemed to remember, and he was invited because it was polite, not because he brought anything in particular to the party.

He was not disliked, make no mistake, as no one could think poorly of him for the simple fact that no one thought of him at all. He knew this, and while he wasn't fond of the notion, he didn't stew on it.

He was aware he'd have to put in more effort than anyone to get the attention of the youngest princess, but he was not afraid to do so. Thus, he caught her attention, and her arm, after the meal.

Ariel laughed before she even saw who had grabbed her. "Oh come on, Andrina! I promised I'd go see that lobster after some dancing, but some is more than _one_ dance - oh!" Ariel flushed red as her hair as soon as she realized her mistake. "I'm very sorry sir, I thought you were my sister-"

"Think nothing of it." he kissed her hand cordially, and she flushed again. "If you are so fond of dancing, may I have this one?"

"Sure, um, of course." she nodded swiftly, and he pulled her out on the floor. She had already promised to dance with merfolk of all types; all genders, ages, relations. But, somehow, this dance hung with a feeling that it should be forbidden, that a boundary was being crossed.

Devon felt a similar emotion, but he felt a step being take forward, not a boundary being crossed. "Tell me, Princess Ariel."

"Ariel is fine."

"Ah, Ariel. If we are already being informal, then my title is not necessary either."

"I'm sorry, but you will have to remind me of your name." Ariel said, a little sheepish. I don't recall us meeting."

"You don't?" Devon said this lightheartedly, as if he was teasing, but it was a bit of a blow. Why, it was roughly a year ago that we met. Of course," he continued, as if the next thought was also a joke. "It is not our anniversary that we are celebrating."

"No, I suppose it isn't." Ariel agreed. "But, please, who are you."

"My name is Duke Devon, miss, but you, of course, may call me Devon." he spun her after he said this, as a sort of punctuation. He knew the tune that was playing, and understood his time was becoming limited as the song was ending. "We met at the party that was thrown the day before your choral concert - or, at least, what was _supposed_ to be your choral concert."

Ariel squirmed at this memory. "I guess I can be a bit forgetful, huh?" she joked.

"Then I shall be here to remind you!" Devon beamed. "We stumbled upon each other in the gardens just outside the dancefloor. You were very excited for the party, and swirling about with your friends and sisters. We had a lovely conversation, and you promised me a dance. But, you got rather tired, and went off to bed before I had my chance." he pulled her closer. "So, I guess, this is me holding you to your promise."

"I guess it is." Ariel said flatly, not sure of what was supposed to come next. However, the music came to a sharp ending, and couples broke apart.

Devon was the last to let go, and he did not fully drop Ariel's left hand. "Tell me, what was so much more compelling about the human world than what we have here?"

"Well, I've always loved the human world." Ariel insisted. "It's nothing like how it is down here, full of fascinating things and new experiences. I've been a mermaid my whole life, well, before this year, and I know how things work down here. I just thought I had been everywhere, done everything. I wanted something new." she smiled softly now. "And then I fell in love."

This, Devon was not aware of. "What?"

"With a man named Eric." she nodded, misinterpreting his surprise. "I had always wanted to be human, but now I knew I had to be. I loved him as soon as I saw him, and I knew I'd never forget him if I just tried to continue on with my daily life."

"But-"

Devon did not get a chance to finish his thought, as Ariel's attention was suddenly grabbed by her sisters, who swam over to her.

"Ariel, come here!" Adella bounced, wrapping both her palms around Ariel's arm. "The Duchess of the Caribbean brought you a gift! We said no gifts of course, but she saw it and thought you'd love it and _come on_!"

Ariel waved goodbye to Devon, spitting out a quick apology. She dashed off with Adella and Artista, trying to remain composed, whilst so clearly excited.

Devon stood there, blankly, trying to rebuild the hold in his chest. She was the same as he had remembered; a perfect fairy of the sea, angelic and bright and perfect. He had gotten to dance with her, like he had hoped would soon happen. He had made plans of how to whisk her off her feet, how to convince her to stay a mermaid, that her life as a human was really more of an extended vacation. He had run over arguments about how the sea was where she belonged. But now, she was married. To a human.

And he hadn't planned for that.

 **Back, and as always, back with another story. Review, please! I love reading all of them!**


	2. The Content of the Letters

**Thanks to my reviewers, it's always great to see you guys back! :D**

"You have to tell us what you and Eric have been up to." Adella insisted, flopping onto Ariel's bed.

The night had wrapped up, and Ariel knew she was going to be tired, so she told Eric she would just crash with her sisters, and return the next morning. Ariel had brushed all the curls out of her hair and laid sprawled across the bed, holding her thin fins in her hands. They felt foreign to her now. It was always a strange reminder how warm the water felt to her when she wasn't in human form.

"Well, what do you want to know?" she asked, rolling to her stomach and dropping her fins.

"Ariel, you're the first one to get married! We want know everything!" Alana sighed.

"Is it romantic all the time?"

"Do you guys fight?"

"What do you do?"

Ariel laughed. "I've already told you all that – I've been back every month, after all!"

"We know! But you always ask about us and go and see friends and we never get to talk about you and Eric! At best, you'll mention a couple things here or there. You hardly even talk about you!"

"Yeah, Ariel, we don't just know anymore. When you lived here, everyone found out because all your antics were, like, twenty minutes away."

Ariel knew they weren't hurt by this, and that they didn't mean her any harm by saying it, but she still felt a twinge of guilt over seeing her family less. She never fully understood all her sisters, but the seven had been so close, and had done almost all of their growing together. She supposed she had never realized how natural it had been for her sisters to know what was going on with her, for them to constantly be on the same wavelength. Things were different now.

"It's been very lovely." She smiled. "I've been getting aquatinted with the kingdom, mostly. Eric and I go on rides through town, weekend trips to the countryside, and I've been hosting lots of parties!"

"Parities?" several sisters exclaimed in unison.

"Yes!" Ariel beamed. "I love doing it, too. Sometimes they have all sorts from the kingdom, sometimes it's dignitaries, and sometimes it's more intimate dinner parties. I love planning them, and Chef Louie makes the most delicious things. Although," she smiled a little. "he did say he felt very limited by not being able to make his stuffed crab anymore. But I think he's moved on, now."

"Good, you don't want to eat one of your friends!" Attina added.

"Are you glad you married Eric?"

"Artista, how silly a question." Ariel said immediately. "I couldn't possibly be happier with my choice, every day I am reminded about how it was the right one for me." She sighed. "I know this might sound a little too silly or romantic, but I think that every day is just another part of a happily ever after, that will extend on and on for the rest of our lives."

"Ariel, you're so lucky!"

"Someday I want to have a marriage like that."

"Do you ever worry, about anything?" Andrina said, not to pry, but out of disbelief that a person could feel such a way, fully happy and without worries or cares.

Ariel thought for a second. There were little, momentary irritations that exist if not for proof that you're alive, but no sincere issues. She wanted for nothing, travelled often, and felt consistently and deeply loved. She still saw her family, her old friends, and had nothing but opportunities to make new ones. It still felt silly, almost braggy to answer truthfully, but still she said, "Not really. I hope it will stay that way forever, and I don't know if it will, but if nothing else, I'm incredibly happy at this point in time."

The girls seemed to be growing more and more tired – Alana had already fallen sleep, green face mask applied – so they shimmied back to their respective beds and bundled up. Barely any light reached the sea floor, and Ariel found herself as restless as she was in her younger years, craning her head to just the right angle, so she could see what that barely-there light illuminated. She slipped out of bed quietly, moving to rest on the windowsill, and watched as a few fish swam by, as a few jellyfish caught the light, and remembered how the sea floor always looked so bottomless, for want of any illumination.

Everything felt so familiar here, and there was a happiness in that. But Ariel now no longer felt like the sea was her home. She no longer saw herself as a mermaid craving land – she was a person, visiting a world she didn't quite fit in anymore. Someone groaned in their sleep, and the noise startled Ariel. She whipped around quickly, knocking a bottle off Attina's nightstand with the flip of her fins. She had forgotten exactly how long they were, and Ariel knew she would've never done anything so clumsy if she had feet.

…

Ariel took a lazy breakfast, said goodbye to her family, and returned home the next morning.

"Hey, angelfish!" Eric said, a little shakily, a little strangely, when she returned.

"Hello!" she ran to him, and he wrapped her up in a big hug, giving her an extra squeeze before he let go.

"How was your visit?"

"Lovely as always." The two turned and began to head back to the palace. "You wouldn't believe the party! The whole castle was decked out, I swear. And there were performers the girls picked out and they were very good, a lot better than I expected actually, and-" Ariel glanced over at Eric as she was speaking, and saw he was still very stone faced. "Eric, are you okay?"

He paused before speaking, and then talked very slowly. "Yes, I am fine."

"Then what is wrong?" Ariel dropped his hand and turned to face him, adamantly showing that she was not going to let this go.

Eric exhaled loudly and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't want you to worry, okay?"

Well of course she was going to worry now! "Eric, please tell me."

"There's been…issues with neighboring kingdoms." He said each word slowly, as if he were picking them individually and carefully.

"What kind of issues? Are they threatening something? Us?"

"The nations, themselves, are not the problem. There problem is what's happening inside them."

"Is there a disease? Something spreading?"

"Something's spreading, alright." Eric said darkly. "Revolution."

Ariel furrowed her brow. She knew what the word meant, she knew what it entailed, but she couldn't believe it was actually happening! "Against what? What are they doing?"

"It seems some of the people in neighboring countries aren't too happy with how things are being run. More specifically, they aren't too happy with monarchy as an idea. They're trying to overthrow it."

Ariel gasped, instantly recoiling from them world. What if it started up here? What if she and Eric were thrown from their lives – and so soon after she had gotten everything in order! "Is that here? What are they doing? Are they coming?"

"The idea is spreading, and I'm sure it's here, but I don't think it is in a threatening capacity." Eric said. "There's revolutionaries in every country, it takes all types, y'know? But it's becoming too many people in this general area. They haven't had any success, they haven't overthrown any throne or caused any true harm, but there's rallies and publications and threats, and as I went through a lot of correspondence I missed, I began to finally understand the severity of what was going on."

"Your friends are writing to tell you? It's that bad?"

Eric laughed without humor. "They're writing to warn me. They're having a hell of a time putting this down in their own countries, and they were hoping their letters would give me a jump start in keeping it under control in mine. If anything, I wish I had read them sooner."

Ariel stood on the beach, halfway between sea and shore, and suddenly she wasn't sure if she felt right, felt safe, anywhere. She wavered a little, and looked back up at Eric. "We'll fix this. We'll find a way. I know we can." She spoke firmly, but she didn't feel it.

Eric smiled warmly at his wife, and took her hand again, heading back to the castle. "You always have the right things to say. And I'm going to need that more than ever, now."

 **Review, please!**


	3. Not Much of a Party

"Now _I_ want to get married!" Adella huffed once Ariel left. The girls had returned to their room and, having nothing to do until lunchtime, began to talk.

"Oh, Adella!" Attina scolded lightly. "You know marriages don't all work like that. Besides, Ariel and Eric are still in their honeymoon stage, as they say."

"Nuh-uh! They got back from their honeymoon _months_ ago!"

"That's not what it means, Adella!" Alana chimed in. "It means they're still all sweet on each other, and everything's all peachy and rosy and that."

"Well, what else is supposed to happen?"

"Nothing else is really supposed to happen – stuff just does! Stuff always goes wrong, and it's just that nothing has yet!" Alana explained.

"They'll still love each other! She loves Eric more than anything, I know it! And he's gotta love her back, he's proved that."

"We're not saying they don't love each other, we're just saying there's been nothing to test that!"

"There was a sea witch!"

"Nothing since they were married!"

"What? Is there supposed to be a post-marriage sea witch now?"

"I don't know! Listen, all I'm trying-"

"Girls, girls!" Attina held up both her hands and everyone hushed up. "This is not something worth fighting over!"

Artista seemed to get the hint first and chimed in, breaking the flow of the argument and changing topics. "So, Adella, what kind of boy are you interested in, exactly?"

"Well," Adella leaned back and thought for a minute. "Someone cute, of course."

"Of course." Several girls echoed at once, giggling.

Adella stuck out her tongue at them and continued. "Maybe royal, it'd be nice. Someone very sweet and courtly, who'd pay me a lot of attention, and remember my favorite things."

"Did you meet anyone at the ball who could fit that description?" Andrina smiled.

"Well, no, but I spent most of the time with you guys, so that didn't exactly help my search efforts." Adella shrugged.

"You so did meet someone!" Artista gasped suddenly, just remembering.

"What? Who? No I didn't!" Adella insisted.

"Well, you didn't really talk to him, but he was there! I was with you – it was when we were looking for Ariel, to show her the gift! Don't you remember?"

"Who!?" The other sisters collectively demanded, tired of waiting for Artista to reveal the mystery man.

"Alright, alright!" Artista burst out in a smile. "Duke Devon!"

"Oh, no!" Adella shook her head vigorously, and the other sisters had similar reactions.

"Well, why not? I don't know him that well, admittedly – I don't think we've even ever talked – but I haven't heard anything foul about him. And he was certainly being polite to Ariel, or at least looking like he was being polite, and that's something!"

"He's just so – so"

"So _what_?"

"Creepy!" Alana chimed in. "He's so overstuffed and overformal and…foppish!"

"Foppish?"

"Yes! He's a dandy, a fool! His language is so burdensome, and he seems like he's using every word he knows in each sentence! He can never ask for something, he must," at this point, she sat up straight and launched into an accent, "beg your pardon, dear madam, if it is not quite a burden, may I inquire as to the possibility of obtaining the salt?" she relaxed into her normal posture. "Dear Lord! Sometimes I wish he'd just scream 'SALT' and get the interaction over with!"

"Oh, but he seems harmless. So he's a little old fashioned, that's not too bad." Artista smiled weakly.

"But it's not just old fashioned, he carries himself with such a…predatory air! Like he's always waiting to swoop in and inquire as to the possibility of something else!" Adella insisted.

"Oh, I'm sure I don't know what you mean!"

"I'm not even sure I do!" Adella laughed. "I can't name anything foul the man has actually done, I can't back up my claims with anything, I'm just saying, he doesn't _feel_ right, and I'm not going to go seek him out at the next party."

"Maybe he's perfectly nice – you don't know!"

"I don't!" Adella agreed. "All I'm saying, is I'm not exactly keen to find out."

…

Adella was right, Duke Devon hadn't done anything wrong. He was one of the more ignored members of society, invited to the parties and events based more on his title than anything else. He lived quietly in a mansion of mild size, if such an oxymoron exists, on the southern side of the kingdom. It was overstaffed and overpolished, but Devon loved it. It was a very old home, like a castle of his very own, with history steeped into the walls.

Even though so many rooms were seldom or never used, he couldn't find it in his heart to remodel it, lest it lose some of its old charm. So he merely instructed the staff to never enter certain corridors or cellars, and he allowed those rooms to age, blocked off from the rest of the pristine house. They were nothing of substantial importance anyway. There were some sitting rooms, a few bedrooms, nothing he didn't have scattered over the rest of the house. Their purpose was initially for showing off wealth and, well, Devon didn't exactly have anyone to show off _to_.

The head maid would go into each closed-off room once a year, give it a real good once over in order to make sure that nothing was damaged in any way. As long as the only issues were dust and cobwebs, she considered the present cleaning schedule fine. She would clean it up until it shown like it could be presented to company, and then lock it back up until she would see it again.

The head maid knew she would have to go clean these rooms up again, but she was getting older, and it was such an arduous task, that she kept putting it off as long as possible. There was enough to do around the rest of the mansion, and Duke Devon never let company in the locked rooms anyway. Surely it could be allowed to slip, just a bit. She knew that he would bring it up within the coming months, and she'd get to it. Soon, hopefully, but not now.

This old woman, as she continued bustling around the house, had no idea as to the impact and importance of that decision.

…

"We're hosting another party."

Normally, the first thing Eric said at breakfast was 'good morning' or 'how are you', so such an abrupt greeting startled Ariel.

"What? Oh, okay." She nodded, assuming this meant everything was going better. "What are we celebrating?"

"We aren't." Eric said darkly. "Ariel, I really need you at this party."

"Of course, Eric. I wouldn't go anywhere else."

"No, I don't think you understand. But I should explain more. We're hosting some of the higher-ups in our country – dignitaries and important merchants. We need to make sure they're keeping an eye out for any significant political unrest in our region as well. We need to get them on our side, and make sure they don't aid in any potential….anythings."

"Wouldn't they automatically be on our side?"

"It's not always that simple, Ariel." Eric sighed, moving his breakfast around absentmindedly. "Every man has his own reasons, and we can't afford for any of those thoughts to get into peoples' heads. Especially people with a lot of money, power, and influence. The most important thing right now is stability, and I'm taking a lot of precautions to ensure that we have that."

"Okay." Ariel nodded, determined to help. "What do you need me to do?"

Eric smiled at her, weakly. "I need you to be charming. You always are, but moreso than usual. I need everyone at that party to feel at ease, to be comfortable in this castle, to be comfortable with…us. And," he laughed, "let's face it, you're the more charming of the two of us."

"Oh Eric, you know that's not true."

"Whatever you may think, I'm sure you have a much better chance of charming a few burly old merchants than I do. Be witty, be lively, capture their attention. If everyone leaves happy, I'll feel more secure."

"Of course, Eric! I'll help Carlotta plan the whole thing, I'm thinking that maybe-"

"No." Eric cut her off. "Everything has to be organized very specifically – we're going for traditional here, we want to remind everyone of tradition. Of loyalty. Of what monarchy has brought to this country. Grim and Carlotta already know, and they're handling everything."

"Oh." Ariel said softly. Just like that, visions of paper flowers and lacy tablecloths vanished from her head. But she understood. There was more at stake here than just a few decorating ideas. "That's fine."

"Sorry." Eric said softly. "I don't mean to be snappy, it's just, there's a lot of pressure coming from the other rulers to keep this region stable, and I'm just concerned that people here will get wind of what the other countries and doing, and decide that they need to start protesting and –"

"Eric," Ariel reached for his hand, squeezing it firmly. "You don't have to be concerned. You're the kindest ruler this country has ever seen, I know it. They have nothing to complain about – how could they?"

Eric pressed his lips into a thin line. "I just wish they could see it the way you do. But I'm afraid they won't."

"They will." Ariel assured him. "There's a reason it hasn't started up here yet – because it's not going to."

Eric sighed and leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair.

Ariel tried again to get him to speak. "When is the party?"

"Three days." Eric mumbled, still resting his head on his hand.

"I'll be ready when they come." Ariel said confidently, squeezing his hand again. "We all will."

…

Ariel had met a few of the dignitaries before, but not all of them, and none of the merchants. Half a dozen burly, sullen-looking men and their wives arrived around six. One man immediately demanded a drink, but the rest seemed fine with waiting a few minutes, eyeing the staff and waiting for it to be brought to them.

Everyone was on their toes, trying to move quickly without rushing, working to make sure that everyone was constantly and consistently happy with their evening. It seemed that the people saw right through Eric's ruse, and knew that he wanted something from them. They were ruder to the staff, louder over drinks, and didn't seem to adhere to basic conversational niceties.

"So, how much did Eric spend on that dress for you? I bet it was over 200 to bring that back from London." A merchant gestured to Ariel's purple dress, eyeing her like livestock at a fair.

Ariel flushed at both his gaze and the boldness of his question, and tried to deflect it in a way that was as charming as possible. "Oh, I'm not sure. I'm quite convinced Eric has a special fairy of some sort, who just conjures up these beautiful things."

"That means more than 200…" the man mumbled into his drink, taking another gulp.

"Patrick, be nice!" his wife warned, flicking out her fan. She turned her gaze on Ariel. "But darling, do tell exactly where he got it. I've been dying to have something new, something modern."

"Great," Patrick gruffed. "Now you're gonna have my wife spend all my money. Promise you'll keep the fashion to a minimum."

Ariel felt suddenly very ashamed. "Of-of course." She stammered, gazing anywhere but into that man's eyes, scanning the room, maybe for an escape-

"Oh, honey, he's just teasing you!" the woman insisted, chuckling. "You mustn't be so uptight."

"Ah, oh, I'm sorry." Ariel forced out a little laugh. "It was very funny." She lied.

"See, Patrick?" his wife scolded. "I told you no one likes your humor."

"No, no!" Ariel insisted urgently. "It was very funny, I supposed I'm just a bit lightheaded tonight, that's all. Maybe a snack-" she excused herself quickly after this, and rushed out of the ballroom at a prompt pace, hoping to not draw attention.

"Ariel!"

But of course she would always have one person's.

"Eric, I just need a minute-"

"What's wrong?" he cupped her face and looked down at her.

"Nothing, nothing." She mumbled.

"Ariel, I mean it. Please tell me."

"Oh, I don't know!" she exclaimed, slumping a little. "I don't get how these people think – it's like there's no social rules anymore! They just say whatever they're thinking, even if it isn't nice!"

"Who's been being mean to you?" Eric looked out at what he could see of the room.

"No one!" Ariel quickly lied. "It's not important." She corrected. "We need these people to like us, and it's just a lot of pressure."

"I know." Eric sighed, pulling her closer. "And I'm sorry for putting it on you. But we need these people's support, and I know you can win it, if anyone can."

Ariel looked up at Eric, and she saw how much he needed her. The circles under his eyes were getting darker, and she knew they were deepening every hour he wasn't in bed, holing himself up instead in his study, writing letters, writing invitations, thinking of ideas. His hair was oilier than usually, and she knew he got too distracted and forgot to wash it. He had missed a spot shaving, he didn't put on his sash quite straight, and his shoulders rolled forward in a way they didn't usually do.

Eric had been putting pressure on her, yes, but he had been putting more pressure on himself.

And out of love, only out of love, Ariel sucked it up and went back out to the group, to host the first party she didn't enjoy.

 **Review, please!**


	4. Unsettled

Duke Devon knew he needed answers, but he wasn't quite sure where to get them. He wished he had more friends – maybe someone would've tipped him off about Ariel then. It had been almost a week since her faithful party, her blessed return, and he knew now that she was married.

Married. To a _human_.

Of all the outcomes he didn't expect! She was so young, too young, to be married off and sent away! She was the youngest of all her sisters, he assumed she had time, he hoped _he_ had time! Traditionally, the sisters were married off from the eldest to the youngest, and he huffed at how non-traditional things were starting to become. No one had any respect for formality anymore, no one understood the importance of doing things by the book.

So, Devon supposed, now _he_ would have to start breaking rules as well.

Ariel was worth breaking rules for, she was worth forming new plans. She was so extraordinary herself, like an underwater fairy, so light and soft, she floated through the kingdom, and so constantly through his thoughts. She was angelic and sweet, and though he had spoken to her so seldom, he knew this about her, and Devon was confident he knew her, perhaps even better than she knew herself.

Which was how he could also be so sure that her marrying this human, this Eric, was a mistake. It was merely teenage rebellion, a bid for something new and exciting. She had always been adventurous and a bit restless, but she was just as traditional and conservative as Devon, at heart, at least. When she got a bit older, she would see how much she longed for the ocean, for her family to be with her constantly, and to live the in the manner she was accustomed.

And Devon was so prepared to give that to her.

He had met her almost a year earlier, as he reminded her of a week and a half ago. He had never seen her before – as she was the youngest, she had most often gone to bed early, or spent time clinging to her sisters for security. But she was sixteen now, old enough to handle herself, and she was floating through the gardens like a fairy looking for a lucky soul to enchant. She was humming a dum-dee-duh-dah tune, as if it had just popped into her head and she hadn't had a chance to complete it.

She had been done up beautifully, with a flowing skirt and pearls woven into her hair, not too unlike how she looked at the last party. She was a stunning girl, and Devon wanted to bring her back into his home and have her light up the mansion with new life and vitality. She was charismatic, and would draw new people into the bleak rooms, brightening his life in a way he couldn't quite seem to do himself.

Everyone seemed to like her, he knew people would come to visit her. She would be happy, in their traditional old home, swimming through the gardens and flitting from room to room. She would want for nothing, he knew, and Devon was sure he could provide for her more than this Eric ever could.

He had been blocked from meeting her sooner, and he cursed the universe for this inconvenience. First, he was prevented from meeting her by her age. Then, by her constant proximity to her sisters. Then, by her rebellion and constant exploring away from the castle, away from the kingdom. Now, she had been removed from his world almost entirely, and he had to hold onto this water fairy only in his heart.

Devon knew Ariel. He knew her as fully as one could as soon as he saw her, before he even spoke to her. Before he even got his chance to dance with her. And he wasn't about to let this perfect woman go, just because of another inconvenience. She was an ocean away, but he would plan, and he would figure out a solution that would keep them both very happy.

Because she would be happy here.

…

Ariel was tired, but it didn't matter.

She had to keep going, keep working, as long as Eric still needed her help. Every morning she saw him reading more and more letters, his brow furrowed, his eyes dull. Every evening she saw him writing letters, pen writing frantically, all notes losing his characteristic penmanship for the sake of speed, the sake of time. Eric was panicked, and although he was trying his best to not show it, she could tell.

But she didn't know what to _do_.

She was the youngest, seventh in line for the throne, and no one had particularly thought to teach her politics. Attina could've handled this, Attina knew all about diplomatic relations and if this sort of conflict was happening under the sea, Attina could've probably fixed it by now. But Ariel was not her sister, no matter how convenient it would've been.

So Ariel had to keep doing what she could, and keep trying to think of new ways to help. She kept hosting gathering after terrible gathering, never completely sure if they were awful because of the circumstances they gathered under, the pressure for her to be perfect at all times, or because all the magic had been sucked out of the institution itself.

Not every gathering was a full blown party, and Ariel wasn't sure which was worse. Large groups were demanding and overwhelming, but at least she didn't get stuck taking to the same one or two haughty merchants or spoiled gentry all evening. Small parties meant she was scrutinized every minute, and the pressure sat on her shoulders and clung to her skin.

But they must've been working, because nothing was happening. Eric read and wrote reports and correspondence constantly, but there were no uprisings, no protests, nothing of consequence. If there was any discord in her fair kingdom, it wasn't showing. He kept her briefed of what was going on in the neighboring kingdoms, and while things were far from peachy, protests did seem to be stagnating, or in some cases, even decreasing.

Eric was still worried, and Ariel knew he would be until this was fully over, but maybe things were finally clearing up. Maybe they could finally move forward. She hadn't had alone time with him in so long. Even when they were in the same room, his mind was always with the conflict. It's what he spoke of, and even though he tried to be attentive, Ariel couldn't help but feel terribly selfish whenever she tried to divert his mind to something else.

However, if things were getting better, maybe she could convince him to take a much needed break.

She decided to test the waters at dinner that night. Thankfully, they had no plans to host anyone that evening, anyone for the next few days, actually. Timing couldn't have been better!

"Eric," she asked. "is there any news?"

To her surprise, Eric broke out in a rare smile. "No, actually! I have only gotten a couple letters in the past few days, all of which saying they're at the status quo. It's not over, I know that, but it looks like this ordeal is finally dying down." He sighed shakily. "Hopefully dying down."

"Oh, how wonderful!" Ariel exclaimed, dropping her silverware noisily to clasp her hands together.

"Sorry I didn't tell you sooner." Eric said sheepishly. "I was afraid I'd jinx it. I know it's just stupid superstition, but I'm working with everything I've got now."

Ariel knew this was the perfect setup! She had been itching to get out of the castle – it had been so long since she'd seen anything but the entertainment rooms and bits of shoreline – and now was the perfect time! Eric could destress, they could spend more time together, and finally put this whole ugly scare behind them. She tried to think back, and realized the last time she had done something fun was when she went to visit her family – over three weeks back.

"Eric, I've got an idea!" she reached over and grabbed his hand.

"What is it?"

"What if we went up to that little cabin we have in the country? If everything's dying down you can finally relax a little bit, and I'm sure you've got to be just as tired as me in terms of being confined to the castle. Eric, we haven't even been to _town_."

Eric shifted nervously at the last sentence. "I know." He said softly. "But I didn't know if it was dangerous or not, and I didn't want you to get hurt."

"Oh, I'm not blaming you!" Ariel said quickly. "I'm just saying that we could go spend the weekend there – recharge, rejuvenate! It's got a pond, and plenty of places for picnics, and the weather is so cool and lovely. It'd just be wonderful to spend some time with you."

Eric was nodding by the time she got to the end of her proposal. "You're right!" he exclaimed, smiling at her. "I'll have the carriage loaded up. Tomorrow morning, we head for the cabin."

 **Review, please!**


	5. Countryside Peace

The countryside cabin was every bit as lovely as Ariel remembered it, and she made a mental note to tell her sisters about it when she got back. Luckily, the times were very close – she would return to the kingdom and then leave for the sea three days later – so Ariel knew she wouldn't forget a lot of the details.

The cabin was much, much smaller than the palace, but Eric and Ariel went when they didn't want to draw a lot of attention to themselves, so it was perfect. There were two bedrooms, a small kitchen, bathroom, and a living room area that was half inside, and half screened-in porch.

For all needed purposes, it was perfect.

The weather was cool, but comfortable, and Ariel dragged Eric out of the house immediately, clamoring about how there were forests and fields to explore. She wrapped both her small hands around his arm and tugged him quickly enough to force him into a run, a silent order to which he willingly obeyed.

"What exactly are we looking for?" he asked, laughing.

"Anything! It doesn't matter! Adventure!" she responded, throwing up her arms and twirling around.

…

Eric laughed; he had missed her enthusiasm. He had seen it drain out of her slowly as these poor excuses for parties began to last longer, happen more frequently, and weigh heavier in consequence. He was so proud of her for being able to hold everything together when he needed her most, but he felt a mixed sense of embarrassment for thinking that. Of course he shouldn't be surprised. Ariel was the strongest girl he knew. She probably didn't even break a sweat.

And if she had, she was certainly back in full force now. She was staggering though a meadow, scanning for something, anything, he wasn't sure. She tilted her head up to meet the sunlight and broke out in a smile at its warmth. Eric was flooded with reminders that it had been weeks since they had spent a day on the beach, since they had gone to town, since they had had a meal together that wasn't drenched in tension and his own preoccupations.

It was necessary, and Ariel understood that, or, she at least seemed to, but Eric still knew he had to say something.

"Ariel." He said, sounding more serious than he meant to.

The girl stopped and turned around slowly, as if she was anticipating bad news. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course it is." He reassured her. He tugged her hand down, and the two sat down in an area heavily flowered with forget-me-nots. "I just think we should…talk."

Ariel smiled at this prospect. Eric felt a pang of guilt at this too. They hadn't talked in so long.

"What did you want to talk about?" she asked.

"Well," Eric rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess I just want to apologize, first off. I'm sorry if you felt ignored while all of this was going on."

"Eric you don't have to apologize!"

Eric smiled at her. She was fine, good. He was worried that she was feeling stressed but just managing it well, and now he knew that everything was fine, that everything had been fine, and that Ariel was one strong young lady. For which, he was eternally grateful.

"Thanks, Ariel. But I know this had to be just as stressful for you as it was for me."

"Oh, of course." Ariel nodded. "But it's over now, and we don't have to think about it again until they're writing the history books."

"And that's exactly what I want to do!" Eric smiled, taking her hands and leaning in closer. "Ariel, I'm not proud of this, but I got so swept up in everything that's been happening, that I'm only realizing how much I've ignored you over the past few weeks. We hadn't done anything for ourselves, and while some of it was necessary, some of it didn't have to be."

Ariel settled back, as if she was considering this. He wasn't wrong. They didn't have to stop spending time together in the evenings, they didn't have to stop discussing other things at mealtimes, but they just _did_.

"But everything's over now." Eric said softly, after some time had passed. "So this doesn't have to happen again."

Ariel stayed silent for another moment, and then shot to the side to pluck a flower; one beautiful, blue forget-me-not.

"Here," she said, humming, tying it around his ring finger, up against his ring.

"Beautiful." He murmured.

"Forget-me-not."

He flushed a little at this, and flicked his eyes up to meet hers.

"Here, let's go inside. I'm getting hungry." Bouncing back just as highly as always, Ariel was all smiles as she leapt to her feet, tugging Eric up with her.

…

Ariel was faced with the kitchen, and found herself a little puzzled as to what to do. She had never cooked much underwater and _never_ in the palace. She wasn't stupid, and knew how to light a stove, what pots and pans were for, and what tasted good together, but in terms of how long to cook things, or what all the ingredients were, or when to add them, or how much, or-

"So, what do you want to make?" Eric interrupted her racing thoughts.

"Uh, something easy?" Ariel half-joked.

"That hungry, huh?"

"Yep!" she said chipperly, pretending that was the only reason.

"Okay, what if we just heated up some of the potato pancakes Carlotta sent us with?"

 _Oh, God bless Carlotta…_ "Yep, that'd be perfect!"

Eric fished them out of the icebox; Ariel had completely forgotten they had even brought them with. They both flattened them a little more, and heated up a pan on the stove. They tossed them in with a little butter, and Ariel and Eric waited.

The cakes made a sizzle-sizzle-pop sound as they cooked, and with a lack of anything else to do, Ariel found herself humming a tune along to it. She wasn't quite singing, but it seemed as if she could break out in song at any point in time, if only she could find the words to sing. She heard Eric tapping his foot to the beat of her tune.

Before long, they were dancing.

Eric swept her up first into a spin, and she laughed out of surprise, out of enjoyment, out of feeling so light and carefree after so long. Ariel hadn't fully processed how much the past few weeks had weighed on her, and how much they had affected her. Going back to that was not an option, she knew she could not bear it again.

Ariel spun back to meet Eric, and took his hand. They were waltzing, they were swaying, they weren't doing any dance in particular but they enjoyed every minute. Ariel didn't stop humming. They would had a hop or two in between otherwise graceful steps, and Ariel loved this dance just as much as their first.

They moved more and more quickly, and their steps got messier as Eric continued spinning her all around the house; around the kitchen, into the bedrooms, out to the screened-in porch. Ariel's mood shifted to something more satisfied, and she finally sang a familiar tune.

"Someday I'll be..."

Having heard this song hundreds of times from Ariel, and thousands of times in his own mind, Eric finished with her.

"…part of your world."

He swept her down into a dip, and any seriousness broke with a giggle from Ariel. Eric brought her back up to a standing position and kissed her, wrapping both his arms around her waist and pulling her as close as she could get.

Ariel stopped after a minute, smelling something and breaking away. She gasped, "The pancakes! They're burning!"

…

All was well. After the weekend, Ariel and Eric finally returned to the kingdom. They stepped out of the carriage, holding hands and whispering to each other, having foraged hundreds of inside jokes over the course of the break. It was like the honeymoon was back, and Ariel was so excited to be back exactly where she wanted to be.

"Eric!"

Her dreamy reverie was broken by Grimsby's shouting, an act peculiar in and of itself. Grim never yelled, he found it to be rather improper.

"Eric! Ariel!"

The couple picked up their pace, Ariel wrapping her skirts around her fist and trying to keep up with the fast pace Eric was setting. It seemed he was back to dragging her, as opposed to her pulling him through the forests and fields. These memories from the weekend seemed only to flash by now, and Ariel had this sickening feeling that they might be lost forever.

"What is it?" Eric had asked before they even stopped walking.

Grim shifted nervously, and began something that sounded rather rehearsed. "You'll have to forgive me, Eric."

"For what? What happened? Is everyone okay?"

Grimsby paused again for answering. "I opened your letters as you left. Just to be sure everything was ship shape. To get information to the needed powers if it was important. I didn't open anything that wasn't from an important political figure from one of the tumultuous kingdoms."

Eric exhaled, a little shakily. He had clearly built this up too. "That's fine, Grim. I know you were just taking precautions. It's okay."

"You'll have to forgive me for that, Eric, yes." Grimsby continued. "But that was not the problem I am trying to bring to your attention." He held up an opened letter.

Eric dropped Ariel's hand in order to snatch and the letter and began scanning it quickly.

"It came this morning." Grimsby spoke slowly. "It appears that young Princess Margaret, only 200 miles away, was kidnapped. They found her, dead, the very next morning."

Eric read it over two, three, four more times. He gulped and looked over at Ariel. "The revolution has turned violent."

 **Review, please!**


	6. In An Instant

Eric packed their social calendar, but not in any way that Ariel would've liked. He sent out messengers all over the village, bringing invitations and the instruction that they were not to leave until the response had been given. Everyone important in the kingdom needed to be won over – anyone with power, anyone with influence. Merchants, top fishermen, nobles, clergymen. Anyone who had the people's ear needed to be seated at Eric's table, right next to his charming wife.

With the weight of disappointments and renewed stress, Ariel faltered fast. It took only one party to drain her completely, and with no end in sight, her energy was sucked from her soul and she could barely react to anything. No sly dig insulted her, no demand scared her. She was neutrally pleasant to all, but any charm or spunk that they had come to expect was gone.

Overall, the people were unimpressed by her. But, at least they seemed to be listening to Eric. They laughed at his few jokes, paid attention when he spoke, and after every gathering – every endless breakfast, brunch, tea, gathering, dinner, drop in – Eric would shake hands with his guest and smile, and Ariel wished she had enough hope left in her to think this meant things were going to go well.

"Eric, how much longer will this last?" she asked softly one night. Morning may have been a better word, it was turning on two am.

He paused, trying to discern an answer. "I don't know. Until it's over."

Ariel groaned and slid back down her pillows.

"Ariel…" Eric started, not even exactly sure of what he was supposed to say. She was nothing like this last go round. She had been nothing but positive.

"Don't worry, Eric." Ariel interrupted. "It's fine. I'm just tired, is all."

Eric put the letters he was reading on his nightstand. "Then let's go to bed."

Without another word, Eric blew out the candle and slipped off to a motionless sleep.

Ariel, on the other hand, tossed and turned for hours until she eventually fell asleep, all the while worrying if she'd be able to make it through the stress this time around. There were more than just a few meetings a day – there had been seven this day alone! And Eric kept sending out more and more invitations. Each recipient thought they were special, and Ariel wouldn't deny, but would never bring up the fact that she had seen three, four, maybe even more groups before the current guest. It couldn't show. She had to be as charming as possible, for there was too much at stake to be lost over some little slight.

She needed her rest, but she couldn't get it. That weekend had not been enough time to heal, and Ariel knew that facing even another day of this was more than she could handle.

…

Duke Devon had sent dinner invitations to the king and his six water-bound daughters, thinking it was a good idea to win over his inevitable future in-laws. The invitations came back later than he was hoping, politely declining the invitation over to his home, but offering to allow him to take a meal with them. They invited him over on the second, claiming that was their only open day. If he could make it, fine, if not, oh well.

Devon had to consider this one a victory – at least he heard back. But thus was how he found himself at the palace, surrounded by giggling mermaids and trying to politely nibble on the meal placed in front of him.

He had other thoughts besides Ariel on his mind this night. Well, not besides her, but rather, one step removed from her. He had something to steal, and he was glad his access to the palace would allow for such a thing to occur. His dinner invitation was multileveled. He was hoping the royal family would dine at his home and be so pleased with the whole occasion that they'd invite him back the next day. This arrangement, well, it cut to the chase. Devon ran through plans and ideas in his head, knowing it would be best for him to take the vial tonight, and debate the morality later.

"So, Duke Devon." Triton said, turning his eye on the man. "What inquisition has brought you here today?"

Duke Devon cleared his throat. He felt panicked by the directness of the question, and of how much he wished for a direct answer to his problem. But that was not what traditional men did, and he had to beat around the bush. "I am concerned with your family's well being, and your interest, of course. You are my king, are you not? You and your daughters are always within the spheres of my concern."

His eyes flicked up and Adella instantly burst out into a fit of giggles. He did not understand why she did so, but he supposed she could be doing worse things.

"Well, I guess that's fair enough." Triton sounded almost uncomfortable as he said this. Devon felt pity for the man. He didn't know no one had ever expressed concern for his daughters, but it was the only explanation as to his ambivalence.

"And, pray tell me," Devon continued. "How is young Ariel?"

"She is well."

Ah! Devon had to stop himself from smiling. Such a short answer could only mean one thing – trouble in paradise! It appeared that Ariel was finally realizing that she and Eric were not made for each other. He felt hope soar within him, and although he knew, on some level, that it was wrong to delight in the pain of such a beautiful fairy, he knew he would be able to fix her healing, and soon all would be well for them both. When they were together.

He looked up again at the snickering of the sisters. Ah, well. He supposed he'd have to get used to such mischief. They were going to be his sisters-in-law soon enough. It was annoying, though. Perhaps he'd be able to train them out of it, once they spent more time together. He could teach them the virtue of silence.

"Will she be visiting again soon? I'm sure you do miss her dearly, as sure as I am that we all miss her so as well."

The girls laughed again, and Alana shrugged and made an incredulous face.

"Girls!" Triton finally scolded them, making Devon feel a bit superior.

"Yes, she is due back tomorrow morning." Attina finished for her father, and making herself the first of the sisters to acknowledge Devon at the dinner table.

"How joyous." Devon beamed. "I hope she will make her rounds at the social circle. I, for one, see her very seldom."

"Probably because she's married."

"And a human."

The girls had chimed in again, snapping these painful facts at Devon without any consideration for his feelings! He would most definitely have to reform them once he joined the family. But he steadied and gave himself patience. It would be soon, not soon enough, but soon.

"Of course." Devon conceded, taking another bite of food. "But I don't see that as to any reason why she should not be social, if you will all me to beg your pardon as to saying so."

"Consider it begged, ye olde bag." Adella mumbled into her drink, causing Andrina to spray hers out with laughter.

This childish act caused each and every one of the sisters to erupt into full-on laughter, clutching at each other and dropping their cutlery. They showed no signs of letting up, and Triton eventually barked at them to stop. They wound down, but Andrina made another face and it all fell apart again.

"Girls! Bed!" Triton eventually yelled, and they all scrambled, tripping and falling over themselves to get to their rooms.

Devon made eye contact once with the sea king, and being overwhelmed with a feeling of unwelcome, decided to excuse himself and return to his home.

…

"Why was he even _here?_!" Adella burst out through giggles.

"Well _I_ didn't invite him!"

"Me either!"

"Nuh uh!"

"Don't be stupid – none of us did!"

"He was such a pretentious fop." Andrina rolled his eyes. "I swear he was just stringing together words in order to see what came out. Half of his sentences barely even made sense!"

"He's just trying to sound smart." Alana insisted. "Maybe for you, Adella" she wiggled her shoulders in a flirtatious way.

"No he wasn't!" Adella gasped.

"He was schmoozing Daddy the whole time, he clearly likes one of us!"

"It could've been any of us!" Adella insisted. "Or maybe that's not the reason at all!"

"He said he was here because he cared so much about King Triton's lovely daughters!" Artista insisted.

"That's not what he said!"

"Well, something to that effect, anyway."

"Okay, there's still six of us! It's just as likely any of you!"

"Well he only started showing up after the ball." Attina pointed out. "So clearly that's when whoever it was caught his eye."

"And he only met three of us that evening – Ariel, Artista, and _you_."

"Can't be Ariel, he knows she's married."

"It could be Artista!" Adella deflected.

"But I'm not the one he kept looking at." Artista said in a singsong voice.

"No!" Adella exclaimed, standing up and shaking her head.

"Come on, ladies!" Alana said with a twinkle in her eye. "I think we need to visit Adella's future home."

"What?"

"What do you mean?"

"Duke Devon's estate! I know where it is." Alana insisted.

"No you don't!" Adella countered. "He never throws any parties – we've never been!"

"Humph!" Alana snorted. "I can know where places are without going to parties there. Come on!"

The girls clothed themselves in seaweed wraps and tied their hair up. Alana swept the curtain aside and gestured to the open sea, exclaiming "Come on, ladies! Let's swim!"

…

"I'm certainly glad _that's_ over." Ariel huffed, flopping into bed whilst still fully clothed.

"I know." Eric laughed without humor, sitting down next to her. "It's been a long two days."

"Eric, it's been an eternity." Ariel said, her voice wavering. "We can't keep doing this forever! I can't be _on_ all the ti-" her voice cracked on the last syllable, and she buried her face into her knees.

Eric pulled her over to him, trying to soothe her as best her could. "Aw, come on now. You made it through once, you can do it again."

Ariel sniffed, and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. "I don't know if I can…"

"I know you can." Eric insisted.

She sniffed again and looked up at him, sighing. "At least it will help when I see my family again."

"When is that?"

"Tomorrow morning. I was thinking-"

"What?" Eric laughed a little.

"What's so funny?"

"You can't go visit your family tomorrow!"

"Eric, it's the third! The third of every month I go to visit-"

"No, I know, I know! But you can't honestly leave right now to go visit your family, not when everything is so at stake!"

"Eric, we worked this out! I haven't seen them in a month, and I was going to ask Attina for political help-"

"Attina is a very smart girl, don't get me wrong, but she knows nothing of land politics-"

"But I need to _go_! Eric you don't know how this has been taking a toll on me! I've never had this type of responsibility before-"

"But now you do! Ariel, this is taking a toll on the both of us, but I need you here!"

"Oh, no you don't! These past two days, everyone has just been talking to you!" Ariel snapped, sliding back from him. "Eric, you're the one everyone respects, you're the one with the power, I can be gone for just one day in order to see my family!"

"Is that what this is about? Ariel, people respect you, you have power here as well-"

"That's not the issue! Eric, this shouldn't be a problem, we agreed when we married that I would go back to visit my family on the third of every month, you knew this!"

"But I assumed you knew that didn't apply now! For God's sake, Ariel, I didn't factor a political uprising into the situation! As long as things were normal, as long as everything was fine, you could go!"

"I don't need your permission for this!" Ariel snapped.

"I'm not trying to make you ask my permission, I'm trying to make you understand that I need you here!"

"It's one day, Eric!" Ariel snapped. "It will do more good than harm! I'll be better after this, I was so much happier after our weekend!"

"Ariel, you don't understand. King Charles is coming tomorrow-"

"Well, he can reschedule!" Ariel yelled, rolling off the bed and standing up.

"No, he can't! Ariel, he's the fussiest man on the continent, I promise he won't be willing to reschedule, or wait."

"Is he coming here to meet me?"

"No, he's coming here to-"

"Then he can forgo me for a day." She said curtly, turning on her heel and starting to walk out of the room.

"Ariel, no!" Eric grabbed her arm and effortlessly dragged her back. "You're not walking away from me, and you're not going to the sea tomorrow."

"You're my husband, you don't get to tell me what to do."

"Well that's exactly what I'm doing!" Eric said angrily. "I-I-I forbid it!"

Ariel flushed angrily and yanked herself away from him. "How-"

"Come to bed." Eric said flatly, still gripping one of her wrists. He softened, seeing the anger in her eyes. "Please."

"I'll sleep. Downstairs." Ariel spat, stomping out of the room and down the stairs.

…

"Shhh! We should not be doing this!"

The girls had arrived at Duke Devon's mansion some time ago. They taunted Adella for her prospects, and tried to pick which room she would sleep in. They all looked so sad, so dusty, so cold. Even lit.

"He'll probably make you sleep down there. T'would be most improper for a wife to sleep in the same room as her husband, _I do declare."_ Andrina said in a haughty accent, pointing to the lower level of the house, far off to the right hand side.

"Oh, hush!" Adella swatted her sister.

"Look though, every room is lit except for those two." Attina pointed out.

"I wonder why." Alana hummed.

"It's spooky, that's all I know."

"Something about him…something about his home, his manner…" Adella spoke the consensus. "It's just not right."

 **Review, please!**


	7. Vial

Devon had been up all night, entertaining an idea that he feared crossed the line of being proper. But it was for true love, it was for Ariel, and he couldn't seem to put it away. Her family, for whatever reason, didn't seem to kindly dispositioned towards him. He could not have this, for he knew they may try to complicate Ariel leaving her false husband. They too seemed to be somehow caught up in this delusion, this lie that Ariel and Eric were somehow good for each other.

But maybe, Devon could show them how well he and Ariel lived together. How easily she would fit into her new, better life. Maybe once they saw how happy she was living with him, being with him, they'd support her, and be kinder to him.

But he knew Ariel would take the most persuasion of all. She'd probably resist coming to live with him – she was so under that human male's spell, and so caught up in her family's misguided judgement of him. It wasn't fair to expect anything else, though Devon did wish she could just see through all the layers placed around him, and see how much he loved this beautiful water fairy of a girl.

So he would meet her, far before her family would arrive on the beach, and take her to his home. With any luck, he'd be able to pull this off. If God truly wanted him to be happy, with his mermaid princess, He would give him this one little break, He would give him Ariel.

Devon swam to the surface, lurking in the shadow of a large rock.

…

Ariel didn't sleep that night, not that it mattered. She hadn't been sleeping anyway. She was so furious that Eric had _spoken_ to her like that! Who was he to forbid her? To keep her from seeing her family? It was the first rule they had agreed upon – on the third of every month, Ariel went to see her family. She wasn't about to change that now.

So she wouldn't.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon, and Ariel knew Eric wouldn't be up for at least another hour, but her family would be getting ready to meet her. It was the perfect timing. Eric thought the discussion was over and he wouldn't suspect a thing, at least, not until it was too late. The perfect crime.

Ariel bit back that last word. It wasn't a crime, she wasn't doing anything wrong. He was the one who was trying to make her break her promise to her family. So Ariel threw back the blanket she had wrapped around herself and scampered down to the beach, cringing as she threw open the door with a little more vigor than she attended. It made a noise as it slammed, but Eric was too far away to hear, anyway.

She reached the beach quickly, and looked around for her family. She must still be early, it wasn't time for them to come get her yet. They were probably still asleep for all she knew.

"Ah, Princess Ariel!"

Ariel looked around for the source of the voice. Was it one of the guards? Was it someone coming to take her back? Who could call for her, yet not be present on the beach? No one in her family called her _princess_. Ariel spun around and looked at all the windows, in case someone was leaning out of one to talk to her, but no one was there.

There was laughter behind her, and when she spun around, she was faced with Duke Devon, whom she was meeting only now for a third time.

"Don't be so silly, angel. I'm right here."

"Oh," Ariel tucked her hair behind her ear, feeling uneasy, but not threatened. "I suppose I didn't expect to see you here."

"Oh, fairy, so much has changed since you've been away!"

Ariel's stomach flipped. First, at the displeasure of him calling her a fairy. She wasn't a _fairy_ , she wasn't anything of the sort, and she was long past the age of pretending. She was many things – she was a mermaid, a human, a daughter, a wife, a princess, and, one day, she'd be a queen. But she was not a fairy, and she didn't know why he seemed so insistent on referring to her as such. Secondly, she felt guilt for not being in the water, not being with her family to witness all that had changed. How much could've changed, and what specifically, in order to bring Duke Devon, of all people, here today?

"Oh?" Ariel said shakily. "What exactly have I missed?"

"Nothing you can't be caught up on!" Duke Devon said cheerfully. "Now, come, fairy princess, we must go back to the sea!"

"I'm still a human, Devon." Ariel said, rather flatly, still annoyed at his continued use of the fairy nickname.

"Ah," he lifted his left hand from the water and waved a small vial. "but it is not your true form."

She didn't press him on his cryptic language, too confused. "What is that?"

"A potion." He tossed it lightly to her. "Drink it, and become a mermaid again. We will return, together."

Ariel thumbed the label, she recognized the writing as her father's. _Well, it seems trustworthy enough._ She thought this both as she looked at the vial, and as she looked at Devon.

…

"Are you ready yet?" Andrina asked, snapping at Alana.

"Andrina!" Alana whined, spinning around. "Just because _you_ don't know how to contour doesn't mean _all of us_ are interested in looking like we have bronze lines on our faces!"

"You're gonna make us late to go get Ariel!"

"So what? She'll go for a swim. Sing a love duet with Eric. What fricken ever."

"It's rude." Andrina snapped. "Ariel won't even notice if you're wearing makeup or not!"

"Well, good news is, I'm putting on makeup for my sake, not Ariel's. I like wearing it, I'll have you know."

"You're plenty beautiful without it." Attina said gently, trying to usher the girl along.

Alana huffed again. "Thank you Attina, and _I know that_! I just like wearing it! Makeup is art."

"Not art that needs to make us late." Andrina mumbled.

"Oh, for God's sake, Andrina!-"

"Andrina, hush! She would've been done by now if you weren't bugging her." Artista scolded.

"Hmph!" Alana smiled triumphantly, going back to blending.

"Oh, you're not innocent either! You knew exactly when we had to go pick up Ariel, and that's the time you have to be ready by!" Artista raised an eyebrow. "Now blend your contour and let's go get our sister!"

"Okay, okay. I'm almost done. Then I just have to do eye makeup."

The other five sisters collectively groaned.

…

Ariel felt a pang of guilt for being surprised that it worked. She thought it might've been some sort of prank – like a little jar of hot sauce, or whatever. Then again, Duke Devon didn't seem like the pranking type, so she probably shouldn't have expected that. That would be much too improper for his more traditional disposition.

"Here, fairy." He smiled gently, holding out another vial. "This will extend the spell – the first one only really gives you the power to transform, it would wear off it about fifteen minutes or so."

"Oh, yikes." Ariel said, taking the vial and tossing it back. "Let's go!"

Devon offered his arm to her, and Ariel hesitated before taking it. Why did he have to do everything so _stiffly_? Everything was so hopped up on formality, she was never quite sure what he was really thinking, or intending. He seemed to do things by another force of the universe, compelling him to act as if he was hiding something, even when he wasn't.

Especially when he was.

"Whoa, steady there m'lady." He chuckled as she suddenly dropped a few feet.

"Wow!" she exclaimed, chuckling. "I just got a little dizzy."

"You must be reorienting to the ocean. You've been away too long."

"It's been a long month, Duke Devon." She sighed, feeling as if her head was filling up with water, even though she consciously knew that it wasn't. "It's been tough in the kingdom."

"And I'm sure Eric hasn't been handling it well." Devon responded bitterly.

Ariel felt like snapping at him instinctively – how dare he criticize Eric! But, then again, Devon wasn't exactly wrong on this one. "He's doing what he thinks is best."

"And what he considers best includes not seeing you off to your family?" Devon seemed to be almost smiling at this, but the expression did not quite break.

I sup-" Ariel felt everything go black, just for a second, just for a flash, then she was once again reoriented.

"Careful, careful!" Devon pulled Ariel in closer. Not too close, but enough to support her fully if need be.

"What's wrong with me?" Ariel said a little shakily. "I've never been like this before! Every time I've come back to the ocean, I've always come back in just like I belonged!"

"You do belong here, you do, you do!" Devon said with more enthusiasm than she had ever seen him use. "Princess, angel, fairy, look at your state! Perhaps, if you spent more time in the water, and less up there, out of your world, this would not be so dreadful? I feel it would only get worse!"

"But I would miss Eric…" she said, her voice trailing off for lack of strength to finish the sentence properly.

"Ah!" Devon sneered, and Ariel felt herself a little taken aback by the action. But she wasn't entirely sure if she had actually heard him, or if her mind was playing tricks on her. It felt like her brain was disconnecting from her spine, and nothing could be counted upon.

"And I like land!" Ariel insisted, truthfully. "There's so much up there that I haven't seen before and-"

"And there's so much under here you haven't seen either!" Duke Devon interrupted. "Why, I'd wager you've never even seen my estate."

Ariel felt like there were dust mites in her brain, clogging up her thoughts. "No, I suppose I haven't…"

"Then we must go! I insist."

Ariel knew she had something else she should be doing, she knew she wasn't particularly inclined to go see his home, she knew she should be saying no, but there were dust bunnies in her brain, and her lips felt like she had been holding a chunk of ice on them for hours, and she couldn't think, or speak, or think, or speak, or think, or see, or speak, or swim, and she felt herself falter and drop, with the last tangible memory being that of Devon's arms wrapping around her and tugging her somewhere else.

…

Eric barely slept. He knew he should've ran after her as soon as she left, but he was angry! How could she not understand that he needed her here? For socializing and schmoozing, yes, but for support more than anything! How could she not understand this? Did he have to yell it out loud? What did he have to do in order to prove he wanted her in his life? Kill a sea witch? Marry her?

So, for a few hours, he stewed. Hoping that maybe she'd see through her own mistakes, and come back to him. Then, that anger melted away and he only felt sadness. Why hadn't she come back? Did she not care about him enough to even understand? To try and work this out? It was their first big fight, and they weren't solving anything. Weren't they supposed to talk through this?

Eric looked at the clock. It had been five hours since their fight, and the sun was barely rising. They would talk over breakfast. He would see what she had to say.

Rolling over in his bed, Eric closed his eyes, with the gross feeling that something was amiss.

…

"Ariel!"

Her name had been yelled a series of times, by every sister, and King Triton. They had screamed collectively, yelled as loud as they could, but they had to eventually accept the undeniable truth; they were being ignored.

"See?" Andrina snapped at Alana. "You took too long! She left! She must've thought we weren't coming!"

"We weren't that late!" Alana insisted. "Like fifteen minutes!"

"She probably thinks we don't even care about her! That we're just willing to leave her up here! Maybe she even thought we weren't going to show up!"

"Oh, Ariel knows better than that!" Alana said, half trying to convince herself.

"Does she?" Attina said softly.

"Girls!" Triton said, shaking himself out of any building concern. "Do not squabble! That won't fix anything." He was deeply disappointed that Ariel was being so childish. They were late, and it was rude, but he figured that she wasn't so moody as to run off just because they were a little late. Not even Eric hung back to explain, or talk her into going.

Something didn't feel right, but Triton didn't know to otherwise explain what had just happened.

 **Review, please!**


	8. King Charles

Eric awoke after what was a restless few hours. The sun was up, had been up, and he had forgotten to tell Carlotta to wake him up at a given time. He cursed and leapt out of bed. King Charles was coming today, and he had to prepare!

King Charles was universally known for being the fussiest man in the known world. He needed things done his particular way, on his timetable, and as he commanded. Eric needed to adhere to his standards, as he could not afford to fight with him now. Not when almost every country surrounding Eric's kingdom was destabilizing, not when Eric needed advice, and may one day need troops. And more than that, Eric did not want to upset this man.

Because this man had also lost his daughter.

His child, Princess Margaret, had been used as a pawn in a political game she was too young to even understand. Only twelve, she had been taken from her bedroom late in the night, and not seen again until she was discovered, dead. Eric had not heard from King Charles until Grimsby handed him his missed correspondence, and one of the contained letters was King Charles announcing his intent to arrive.

Eric had not told Ariel all the details – she knew Princess Margaret was dead, and she knew King Charles was coming, but that was it. He realized he had simply forgotten to connect the two, and realized he should probably tell her, just so she'd have all needed information when King Charles came in – two hours!

Leaping out of the room, Eric suddenly realized he didn't know exactly where Ariel was. He caught a servant boy and told him to make sure the pre-chosen foods were being prepared, and he glanced over a bannister to make sure the maids were scampering about to clean. All seemed to be going well, but much was at stake, and he was still panicking.

Now, where could Ariel be? Eric suddenly realized exactly how many rooms there _were_ in a castle! Dozens of bedrooms and guest rooms to start – and Eric wasn't even entirely sure she was sleeping in a bed! She had been known to fall asleep in the library, and derived comfort from being there, or she could've gone to a beloved parlor, or she could already be up and walking around – she could be anywhere! Anywhere!

"Ariel?" he called out, hoping she wasn't still mad and would at least respond, even if it created a marco polo like exchange.

But there was no response.

He began looking into all the rooms downstairs: every parlor, bedroom, sitting room, wherever a person could be, he looked. He went into each room and scanned over it. Upon seeing no one curled up sleeping, he would shut the door and proceed to the next one, all the while crying out for his wife.

But there was no response.

Eric found himself moving more and more quickly as the minutes ticked away and his search remained fruitless. He hadn't even gotten dressed yet, and he wasn't fully sure of what time it was, and when King Charles would arrive. Ariel was probably still snoozing in some far flung work and he needed to wake her up and pull everything together! Eric could not afford to have an entire country against him!

But there was no response.

Fortunately, there had been no uprising efforts in Eric's kingdom yet, and Eric believed it was because he was able to get out in front of it and proactively work with the powerful people, winning their influence and adopting some of their ideas. However, that almost paled in comparison to this meeting. All of his past encounters were domestic, this was a whole other kingdom he could either have on his side, or biased against him. He needed Ariel there.

But there was no response.

After he had looked in every downstairs room, Eric froze. What if she had moved, or was hiding? Or, more likely, what if she had chosen a room upstairs? He didn't have enough time to keep searching for her! He ran up the stairs and leaned over the banister, calling out for anyone who could hear him to come to the floor. A few dozen people gathered, mumbling amongst themselves and looking confused.

"Alright!" Eric cried out, trying to impart urgency without revealing too much information. "Ariel is somewhere in the castle, or on the grounds. I need you to grab whoever you can and search for her! If she is found before King Charles arrives, everyone gets double this month's salary!"

The people split immediately, running all over the castle to scour each room, all crying out "Ariel! Ariel! Princess! Ariel!"

But there was no response.

Eric kept looking upstairs, finding himself searching behind curtains and under tablecloths – as if she was hiding! As if this was a game! As if she was taunting him! He said her name so many times that it didn't feel right in his mouth anymore; like he was saying a word that didn't even exist!

But there was no response.

Eric eventually found himself back in his bedroom, and took this opportunity to grab a pair of pants and a shirt. He dressed hurriedly, pulling on boots as he left his room and finger-combing his hair as he ducked into the next one.

"Come on, Ariel." He pleaded. "We can talk about this when King Charles leaves, I'm sorry for anything. Just come out."

But there was no response.

"Sire, Sire!" a voice called out for Eric – he heard it practically across the castle.

"Yes, I'm here!" Eric called, running down the stairs and coming face to face with a red-cheeked girl in a scullery maid uniform.

She opened her mouth slightly, but hesitated.

"Where is she? What is it?" Eric pressed, having no time for manners.

The girl lifted her eyes to meet his. "Princess Ariel has not been found. King Charles is here."

…

Ariel awoke for the first time in a lightwashed room, and wondered how it could've taken her so long to wake up when the room was no unnecessarily, blindingly bright. She stirred, and found herself on a plush bed, wrapped up in blankets. Her head swam, and looked around startlingly, wondering where Eric was and why she wasn't in her room.

 _Oh._

She sighed heavily and fell back into the pillows. She had forgotten about their fight. But that King Charles fellow was coming, and she knew that she had to go explain to her family why she wouldn't be coming this month. She _hated_ that she had to do that. She still didn't understand why she had to be here, but Eric had seemed so adamant that she decided he could win this round, and he'd have to fully explain to her after this. Somehow she was already tired, and she hadn't even met the man!

Or maybe it was because her head was simply swimming? She felt almost ill, and wasn't sure why! Yes, she felt bad about fighting with Eric, and yes, she was exhausted, but her head was swirling and swirling and –

She should go get a glass of water. Something to eat. Maybe that would fix everything.

Swinging out of bed, Ariel looked down and saw that her legs were not waiting for her, but rather, a scaly, blue-green fin.

She screamed.

 **Review, please!**


	9. Steadfast

"Missus, Missus!" a portly woman came running into the room and wrapped her hands around Ariel's shoulders, trying to stop the girl from screaming.

Ariel couldn't stop screaming! This isn't where she fell asleep! This wasn't her room! This isn't her home! Where is her husband! _Where are her legs?!_

"Missus, please! Calm down!"

Ceasing to scream, Ariel began to violently shake and erupted in heaving sobs. Everything became clearer. Her hair floated up like it always did, her tail looked the same, she could suddenly feel the flow of water she was so used to. Everything from her other life was gone, and she didn't know what had happened.

Was it a dream? Was it possible that the last year of her life, where everything had felt so real and wonderful was a _dream_? How much had she imagined? Was Eric even real? Had she missed her concert and then dreamed up a fantastical world where she had everything she wanted?

Oh, but it just _couldn't_ be! Life could not be that profoundly unfair! She couldn't have dreamt up everything she went through in order to get her legs, in order to marry Eric. Everything was so fresh in her mind, in the way only a true memory should rightfully be! The prickling pain when her fins were ripped in two, like two burrs being pulled from each other. How much warmer Eric felt than anyone else who had ever hugged her, because he wasn't half fish, because he wasn't cold blooded, because he wasn't constantly submerged in salt water. How, after months of sleeping on land, she noticed the smell of salt water wafting into her windows and was astonished, because she had become so desensitized to salt water that it had taken her this long to notice its scent again.

She dragged her wrists across her eyes, upset because that motion used to dry her face, but now submerged in water, she would never be dry again. How could all of that be fake? She looked around, at the woman who was holding her, whom she didn't recognize, at the room, which she didn't recognize.

"Attina!" she yelled for her eldest sister, expecting her to come in and explain.

But there was no response.

"No, no." the plump woman shook her head, lifting up a hand and pointing to herself. "Gilda."

"Huh?" Ariel's voice wavered, left over from sobbing.

"Gilda." The woman smiled softly, kindly. "That's my name. I'm the head maid here. Please do not cry, we're all so happy to have you here. We've all wanted the Duke to be happy for so long."

"Huh?" Ariel repeated. None of that made sense! What duke? "Please, what's going on?"

"Here!" the woman smiled chipperly, swimming off. "I'll go get him!"

Ariel did not know the woman, but the feeling of companionship and security that came with her was not something Ariel was quite ready to forgo. "No, please!" But the woman had swam off before Ariel could make her mouth form words, leaving her confused in this foreign room.

A man, broad shouldered and light haired, swam into the room with equal parts stiffness and smugness. His arms were tucked behind his back and he seemed hesitant to approach her, like a toddler who knew he had done wrong.

"Hello, fairy."

…

After over an hour passed, the family gave up and went home, thinking they'd wait for her to cool down, and explain the next month. Alana, however, could not let that happen. She felt too guilty for being the one to screw this up, and would wait for Ariel to go take a stroll, or lean out a window, and _have_ to come talk to her.

She would wait all day, if that's what it took.

She leaned up against a rock in the shallows, and waited for her sister, waited to be able to make sure she understood, and that she knew she wasn't being forgotten or slighted.

Alana had been fearing this day for a while. Well, not this day specifically, she never knew that this would happen for want of bringing a little color to her cheeks. But the day where something finally went wrong. Ariel's life had been perfect for so long! And Alana was happy for her, of course, but she still always felt like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Everything was just…too perfect. A perfect marriage. A perfect kingdom. A perfect experience being human. A perfect family. A perfect blend of both her worlds. She had everything, and Alana never believed that everyone could truly have _everything_ they wanted. Something had to be wrong that she wasn't talking about, or something had to go wrong.

And Alana feared, too correctly, that'd it be something with _them_. That one day wasn't enough, or that it'd be too much. That Ariel would forget one day – and, why, she may have even forgotten today – or she'd be too busy, or wanting to vacation with Eric, or do something that wasn't come down and spend a day with her family.

Alana knew what her family though happened, but she wasn't convinced yet. So she would wait for Ariel to come out, and apologize if she had to. But, most of all, she would get answers, even if no one else was willing to wait with her.

…

King Charles was fussy, as Eric already knew. He complained that the tea was too hot, that the castle stunk of saltwater, and that it was too bright for an average day. Eric apologized and steered him into dimmer, more airyated rooms.

But, more than anything else, King Charles was devastated. He had lost the light of his life, and the most important woman in his life. He told Eric everything. His wife, Margaret, had died in childbirth with their youngest child and only girl. Out of respect and love for the name, he called the infant Margaret as well, and was always so proud to show her off to the kingdom, as a mini-queen who somehow trumped the six boys she called her brothers.

She was a darling thing, always draped in jewels and furs, determined to be queen of the kingdom, despite being so far back in line for the throne. This fact did not really register with her though, so she insisted on being present at all of her father's speeches and events, to mingle with her future public and learn the ropes of leadership. She spoke mostly with noble folks, who delighted in her precociousness, and appreciated how she lightened the conversation until her 8:30 bedtime.

It had been an otherwise average day, the night she disappeared. He spent the day working, saw his daughter in the nursery and heard her protests to finally be allowed her own room, like a grown up. He promised her they'd discuss it the next day, and she was getting quite old indeed. He didn't see the maids feed her, play with her, or put her to sleep. He also didn't see the revolutionaries sneak into her window in the dead of night, to whisk her away. If she had cried out, the castle was too loud to hear her. She was the youngest, and there were no other children in the nursery. Three days later, her body was found, discarded, and the revolution had officially begun.

More than once, King Charles referred to his daughter as 'the light of her life'. It was undeniably true, as Eric noticed that any brightness or shine that may have once been in his eyes, was gone. His heart sat in his stomach, and he found his worry for Ariel to be creeping up more and more, with intrusive thoughts that she might be facing the same-

No. Eric forced himself to not think that. Not where there was so much arguing against that! There had been no protests or demonstrations in his kingdom. When the scullery maid yelled across the castle, he had heard. Ariel was bigger than a preteen, and stronger. She would've fought, and screamed. He would've heard, he wouldn't helped.

But if that was so true, why didn't she hear him this morning!

"But Eric."

King Charles interrupted Eric's downward spiral, and Eric looked back up to meet his eye.

"Yes?"

"I've heard so much of your lovely wife, yet she does not seem to be here. Why is that?"

Eric gulped, and tried to think of a lie that would satisfy him. But his brain was only focusing on Ariel, _Ariel_ , **_Ariel_** , and he could not seem to weave together a story. And, if...if the same thing was happening to Ariel, King Charles would be the only man to be able to help.

"I'm…not sure." Eric said flatly, dropping his head.

King Charles furrowed his brow. "What on earth does that mean, boy?"

"King Charles, sir. I'm going to tell you a story. And it may be a long one, but if the worst case scenario is true, you're the only man who can help me."

King Charles softened at this, and calmly said. "Tell me everything, son."

So Eric did. He told him of the stress they were under, and how it led to the fight. He told him of the arrangement they had set up, and how he regretted what he said, but he was so worked up he didn't think of any other scenarios. Of how she went to sleep somewhere else, but he didn't follow her, so he didn't know where it was. Of his mad dash to find her this morning. Of how the servants had looked all morning, all day, but no one had found her. Of how, forgive him, he really wished he was looking for her instead of sitting her and letting her drift father and farther away, but he also had an obligation to his kingdom. Of how he now began to fear that she wasn't just pouting, or walking along the beach, but may have been taken, or worse.

"You must find her." King Charles said with great seriousness. "You have my help, in whatever form that may take. But go now, son, and search every corner. I'll pray for you."

Eric was almost out of the room before King Charles had a chance to finish speaking, racing out to the beach, and hoping she was just napping somewhere, a little sunburnt but otherwise okay. King Charles was right, he was in allegiance, and he was right.

He ran to the beach, where he saw a girl sitting in the water.

 **Review, please! Yeah I know I'm updating really quickly, but I have like 4 chapters already written and there are parts in each I'm really excited for? haha**


	10. Truth and Reality

Alana sat up straighter when she saw Eric coming. Finally! He would explain where Ariel was, and everything would be quickly sorted out. All would be well once more, and Ariel could come and visit for the rest of the day, maybe.

"Hello!" she smiled and waved at him.

"Alana?!" he cried, in great confusion, dropping to the sand in front of her. "Have you seen Ariel? Please?"

Alana felt a great surge of nerves. Nothing about Eric's manner of soothing, and if he hadn't seen Ariel either…

"No." she said truthfully. "Haven't you?"

Eric looked to be on the verge of tears, and his voice was jagged. "Not since last night. Everyone I know has looked all over the castle and the grounds, and we fought last night, and-"

Alana gasped. "Do you think she ran away?"

Eric laughed without humor. "I almost wish she had. Alana, I think she may have been kidnapped."

Alana slid down the rock slowly. "It can't be…" her voice trailed off. "There has to be another explanation."

"I hope so." Eric said solemnly. "But I can't think of what it might possibly be. Is there any way she could be with you?"

"No." Alana shook her head. "We got here a little late, but we all got here together. So best case scenario would've been her floating a bit in the water, but she wouldn't have gotten far enough for us to not notice her, even if she swam."

Eric could feel the hot flames of panic coursing up and down his body. "Alana," he said, never expecting a scenario where he'd be confiding her. "I don't know what to do. Please help me."

Alana felt pressure at this, but knew she had to do her best to help. This was for her baby sister, this was for Ariel. "Put up a reward for anyone who finds her. Have your men canvas the kingdom. I'll…I'll tell Daddy. He has a whole room full of elixirs and such, maybe something can help. "

"Thank you, Alana. Sincerely." Eric stood up. "I have to keep looking."

"Godspeed, young prince." Alana said, disappearing back beneath the waves.

…

Ariel's head was still clouded as Devon approached her and sat down next to her. She rose to swim away, but Devon placed a firm hand on her shoulder and guided her back down again.

"Rest, fairy, you've had a trying day." Devon said soothingly, brushing her hair off her shoulder.

Ariel wanted to yell at him to get his hands off her, to say that his fingers were too cold and too unwanted to be anywhere near her, to say that she was _not_ a fairy, and didn't like being called that, but her mouth was still numb and her tongue felt swollen, so she just scrunched up her face and tried to lean away.

"Where am I?" she said softly, struggling to get each word out.

"Why darling, you're home."

"No-o-o. I'm not." She said firmly, despite the stammering. She had never been in this room before!

"Yes, you are." Devon insisted. "You've had a bad dream, is all. You were a bit worn out from all the festivities, and now you're just a little disoriented."

Ariel shook her head vigorously. There was no way this was real! She had never been here! She knew what her home in Atlantica looked like, and she knew what her home with Eric looked like, and neither of them looked like this!

"Where are my sisters?!" Ariel demanded.

Devon looked very confused by this. "Why, they're at your childhood home. Ariel, you haven't lived with your sisters in over a year."

"Where is Eric?"

Devon looked a little put off by this, but still spoke with absolute certainty. "Who is Eric? We don't know an Eric."

Ariel shook her head, beginning to cry again. "No! No! No!-" she buried her face in her hands. He was real! She knew he had to be! She remembered the castle and the beach and the cabin and how her rubbed little circles on her thumb whenever he held her hand. She remember the laughing during their weekend trips and the stress from the past weeks and exactly how Chef Louie's lemon tarts tasted. She could still sing a melody and could almost hear him echo it back. Eric _had_ to be real.

"Ariel, here." Devon held out a glass of muddy liquid. "You had a nightmare. This will help."

Ariel shook her head, pushing the glass away, pushing him away.

"Ariel, I insist. I worry about you."

"Oh, why do you care!" she exclaimed, finally accepting the gulp he poured down her throat.

She heard him speak before she began to feel extremely dizzy again, but she hoped she had dreamed this part up. If not, then she knew even less than she thought.

She swore she had heard him firmly say. "Ariel, I am your husband."

"No!" she yelled, jolting up and swimming for the door. "No!" she kept calling as she raced down the deserted hall, dizzy and lightheaded still. This wasn't her home! She had to get out! She had to get her legs back.

She was quick, but she this strange drink in her system, and Devon caught her quickly, gripping her shoulders and steering her around to face him. She thrashed and shrieked and he quickly put his hand over her mouth.

"Ariel!" he said, his voice deep and rough. "What you think is true is not. I don't know what you're blathering about, but I can tell you what has happened."

She kept thrashing, but she was growing weaker by the second. It was harder to resist. Oh, what was in her head?

"You are Ariel, seventh daughter of Triton. You grew up with your sisters."

Ariel steadied herself a little bit. This much was true, maybe he would tell her where Eric went. Why was he _doing_ this to her? He had barely even spoken to her before!

"We met at a party the night before your choral debut, when you were sixteen. We did not get a chance to dance, and both of us lamented this. I invited your family back to my estate, and we found ourselves to be quite in love. We've been married for several months now, but you've only now moved into the estate. For the sake of publicity. There are rumors of Adella beginning courtship now, and it's more appropriate for the youngest to marry if the other sisters are at least dating. You're just not used to the estate. You just aren't used to it, darling."

She had stopped yelling now, so he gently removed his hand and tugged her closer, and continued speaking. "You may not be used to the estate, but you're not fighting me, right?" he spoke in a way that presumed the answer to be 'no'.

"Where is Eric?" she said matter-of-factly, and even through her haze, she could see the shadows that crept across his face.

"Who?" he asked, his tone innocent.

"What did you _do_ with him? With _me_?"

"I don't know who you're talking about, darling." Devon tugged her back.

Ariel ripped herself from his grasp, and struck him across the face, delighting in the noise it made, even beneath the water.

Devon's nose twitched a few times, and he tightened his grasp on Ariel's left wrist, removing his right hand to rub at his face. He glared down at her, but if you had asked him, he would've insisted there was only love in his eyes.

"You're tired. You need rest. Food. Let's go."

"I don't want to!" Ariel protested, but his grip was too tight.

"You know, I think I have a new room for you. Hopefully this one will be less jarring." He dragged her down the stairs and into a corridor that wasn't lit, or dusted. It seemed no one had been there in ages. Fumbling with keys clipped to his jacket, he opened one of the heavy doors and pulled her in.

"Keep quiet in here until you can finally realize the truth." He spat. "Ariel, I love you, and you love me. You _know_ this."

He slipped out the door and left her there, with just enough strength to collapse on the bed, the potion affecting her more. She ran her left hand through her hair, trying to stay as still as possibly, trying to regain some sense of balance. There was a snag, and she held a shaky hand in front of her face, devastated to see a ring she didn't recall, a ring Eric did not place of her finger, was most definitely on her finger.

Could this be reality?

…

Alana didn't know how to break the news to her father, but she knew that Triton had to know. Moreover, he may be able to help with whatever potions he had. She knocked on the door of his study, wishing she had backup, but not quite ready to break the news to her sisters yet. No one knew how it happened, if it happened, but she was a little afraid they would assume she was taken because they were late.

 _Knock knock._ "Daddy?"

"Oh, come in!"

"Daddy, I have something to tell you, but I need you to keep calm." She said quietly, noticing how the nervousness her father now felt showed so clearly on his face. She became very glad she hadn't brought her sisters now.

…

Artista was absentmindedly thumbing through a magazine, trying to take her mind off the events of today. Just as she was about to read an article about a great new kelp treatment, she heard her father yell " ** _WHAT_**?"

An impressive feat, she reasoned, as he was across the castle, in his study.

She decided to investigate, and see what was the matter.

She knocked lightly and pushed into his study, seeing a strange scene before her. A framed portrait lay on the ground, glass smashed, with the trident laying in the rubbish. Triton was _seething_. His fists were clenched, his face was scrunched up, his eyes were flaming, and he wasn't even looking at Alana! What could she have possibly done?

"Is…everything okay?" Artista bravely asked, swimming only slightly forward.

"You tell her!" Triton snapped. "I'm going to kill that boy." He lunged for his trident, and Alana held out her hands to stop him.

"Oh, please, Daddy, no! It wasn't his fault!"

"Serves me right!" Triton spoke on, pushing his daughter to the side. "I knew humans were bad, I knew they were trouble, and I knew something bad would happen if Ariel kept getting involved. Oh, why didn't she just listen to me in the first place? If she had never married him, then she'd still be safe! She'd-" he cut himself off there, heading for the door.

"Daddy, no!" Alana exclaimed, rushing after him. "There's a better way than this – it's not his fault!"

Artista swam of with them. What was happening?

"Daddy!" Alana screamed. "Don't hurt him!"

She saw Alana's urgency, and knew that Triton was going to do something he'd probably regret. "Daddy!" she yelled, trying to help Alana, and seemingly Eric out.

"He has lost Ariel!" Triton yelled back. "That never would've happened if she had stayed a mermaid."

" _Daddy, she loves him!_ "

 **Review, please!**


	11. Join Together

Eric had never felt so lousy in his life; sick in his mind, sick in his soul. He had done what he could – dispatching every available person to search the kingdom, searching himself in every cave on the beach, but he had found nothing. It had been a full day, only a day, a whole day, but no change of wording could change the pressure he felt on his heart.

How could he have lost her like this? It was his fault, all his fault. He should've gone after her. He should've made sure she understood, he should've done something else, anything else, for it may have change this whole situation.

His life was ruined. And he knew if he didn't get her back, it would stay that way. Eric heard a storm brewing, seemingly out of nowhere. His stomach dropped. What if Ariel was outside somewhere? He didn't know if he should be more concerned as to the elements she may be facing, or that he couldn't even tell where she was. And he had enough to worry about without focusing on this specific scenario.

Walking over to the window, he was faced with the jarring reality that there was not a storm coming in the conventional sense, but one racing through the ocean, causing wake where it traveled. Eric had never seen this happen before, but he knew what, or rather, _who_ it was.

King Triton's voice thundered loud enough for Eric to hear, even indoors, and Eric saw no sense in fighting, he was tired enough as it was. He simply stepped outside to accept his fate. What could Triton do that hadn't been done?

…

Gilda knew it was bad to question the Duke. He was a kind man, usually very understanding, easy enough to work for. Traditional, and with high standards, but not unreasonable. However, he was always so confident that what he was doing was right that he took any questions as objections, and thus, a threat.

But she was afraid she didn't quite understand the present scenario. The Duke had told them about it as soon as he brought the girl home and put her to bed. No one had seen them come in, but he gathered up the staff with a huge smile on his face and began to tell them the most astonishing story. He said;

"I met Ariel roughly a year ago, at a party thrown for her debut. After months of flirtation, we began formally courting, and were married three months ago." He held up his hands at the clear confusion of the staff. "Now, now, I know it's a bit unconventional sounding, but I assure you, it's only for propriety. Ariel, as I'm sure you all know, is the youngest in her family. And while it is by no means illegal for her to marry before her sisters, it could be perceived by some as a slight. However, there have been plenty of rumors that her sister Adella is seeing some mystery man, I myself don't know whom, making it more acceptable to be seen with me, and in my home now, as we can announce our marriage. We will do so, but Ariel is quiet tired from the festivities of last night, and we must let her rest."

Gilda was delighted to hear everything so neatly explained, and volunteered to check in on the girl. She was lovely, and quite obviously tired! The girl seemed as if she could barely remember her own name. But Gilda was confident Ariel would settle into the manor quite well, and hopefully bring a breath of life back into the place.

And, as she had told the girl, she had never seen the duke so happy.

…

Triton was fuming, a stark contrast to the near lifelessness of Eric. Gripping his trident, Triton glared at his son and law, not sure how to begin in a way that wasn't simply zapping the boy until a pile of ash.

He spoke evenly, though angrily. "Do you think you can tell me where my daughter is?"

Eric knew this was no time to be snippy. "No."

"And…why…is…that?"

"Because I don't know."

"Daddy!" Alana burst from the water, startling both Eric and Triton. "You can't do this!" she yelled, lunging for the trident.

"Alana, go home!" Triton demanded.

"No!" she protested, at roughly the same time Artista popped out of the water.

"Daddy, what are you doing?" Artista asked, crossing her arms.

"Neither of you are old enough to understand what's going on here." Triton said harshly. "Go home."

"We won't!" Alana protested. "There are a million better ways to handle this, and there is no reason for you to hurt Eric!"

"He lost my daughter!"

"She was taken!" Alana yelled, and Eric could feel that sentence in the pit of his stomach. "There's a difference!"

"Please!" Eric finally interjected. "All of you, this is my fault, and I'm sorry. It wasn't on purpose, I love her, of course it wasn't on purpose, but it's my fault. I am supposed to be a better ruler, a better husband."

Now slightly removed from the situation, Triton seemed to calm down, though only a bit. "So what do you propose we do?"

Eric shrugged. "I've dispatched guards, I have every available person, myself, included, searching the grounds. I don't know who took her, or when, or if she even ran away. All I know is that she's gone, and that I can't find her."

"So you didn't see her leave, or get a ransom letter, and she didn't say anything?" Artista asked.

"No." Eric said guitily.

"Maybe this is far fetched-"

"I'm more than willing to listen."

"But what if Ariel isn't on land anymore?" Artista finished.

"What do you mean?"

"What if she's a mermaid again? She was supposed to visit."

"How could she possibly do that?" Eric asked, both scared at the prospect that there was this much more potential space to search, and excited that there was a new lead.

"It is possible…" Triton said softly. "You can make potions, maybe she had one. I have several stored in the castle, for the sake of preparation. I never taught her to make them, though."

"Well, see!" Alana exclaimed. "What if she made it a little wrong and got disoriented? She might be somewhere in Atlantica, searching for the castle the whole while! She might be there right now, laughing with Attina."

Eric because immensely excited at this idea. "Yes!" he exclaimed. "Please, can you find her?"

"We've gotta go look, Daddy!" Alana pulled her father back, and Artista dove beneath the waves.

"If we do this together, we'll find her, I'm sure." Eric nodded.

"I can only hope so." Triton said dimly, but he aqueisqeued to his daughter's force, and too slipped beneath the water.

…

Devon paced outside of Ariel's new room for a while. She was much more delusional than he had thought. She seemed to slowly be accepting that Eric wasn't the man she was supposed to be with, but it didn't happen as instantaneously as he had hoped. He figured that as soon as he had removed her from that toxic environment, she would be better. That didn't quite happen, but Devon knew that their love was true, and that she would warm up to him soon enough.

But he didn't know how quickly, and he had to plan for that. She couldn't come out and be among society while she was still ranting about Eric, of course! He needed her to fully heal, and then she could leave that room in the dark hallway. But what to do, what to say to the servants, so that they wouldn't suspect?

He thought, pacing around and trying to create a scenario that was believable, something that could reasonably make a wife of three months want to lay away from her husband. Something that no one would think to question.

Thankfully, or at least, thankfully as far as he was concerned, Devon was a clever man. And while it took him quite a long time to think of a solution to this dire, dire, problem one was found. And thus, he was once again able to call in the staff.

"Well!" He proclaimed happily, waving the servants in closer. "I have yet another round of happy, happy news to share with you all."

The servants began to buzz and titter. The introduction of his bride, and now there was supposed to be something else? What other joy could exist under the ocean for him?

"Settle down, settle down." Devon smiled widely, knowing enthusiasm would be the key to selling this. "As you know, Ariel and I have been married for three months, and we have not been, well, apart for these times. And a happy occurrence has happened!" he clasped his hands together, still smiling, and paused for a suspenseful moment, looking over the faces of his servants.

People who trusted him, obeyed him, and even liked him. Some had been employed with his family their whole lives, sticking around for the sake of loyalty, even after the death of Devon's parents, just a few years back. None had ever done anything wrong, perhaps a dropped dish or missed day of dusting, but nothing serious, and Devon knew logically he should not be lying to them in this way. But he did not acknowledge that part of his conscious, and proceeded on anyway.

"My Ariel is going to have a baby."

 **Review, please!**


	12. An External Peace

The plans went into effect immediately, and Devon was pleased with how well the servants accepted his orders. He did not expect pushback, objection was not encouraged him his home, but that didn't keep him from worrying that someone would do something to hinder his progress with Ariel.

Meals were prepared, set on trays to be ready the same times Devon had always eaten. Each tray was laden with enough food for two – two and a half, really. It would be laid on the same table, at the same time, and Devon would swoop by but minutes later to grab it, and bring it to his beloved.

But not before adding an extra something of his own.

After Ariel's…insolence the other day, Devon knew she would need to be more subdued in order to properly consider and understand his love. He didn't want to keep her under the influence of his potions, but until she was better, they would be her medicine. So he mixed it in with every bit of her food – pouring it in her drink, spreading it on her salads, mixing with her soup. He would carry these trays in and place them on her side, always struck by the beauty of his still wife.

"Good evening, fairy." He said to her, picking the tray up off the ground. He could never manage to hold it and work the locks at the same time.

She never responded. She didn't the first evening, and she hadn't for the month this had been going on.

A month. Incredible. Time had passed so quickly already. They had fallen into this little routine, settled into it now. He would come and sit by her on the bed, and talk to her, hope that she would look at him in the eye, but she always seemed to be staring off into the distance.

"Darling, darling fairy. How are you today?" Devon pressed, stroking her hair gently behind her ear.

She never responded to that, either?

"I know you're very, very tired. But I see the light in you, and I know that soon you'll bring all your vibrancy back, and light up this house like only you can."

"Let me go." She said softly, exhausted.

"You can return to your upstairs room soon, I know you're almost ready. But you've got to stop asking things like that, first. More importantly, you've got to stop meaning them." Devon said, lifting up a spoonful of soup and feeding it to her, like a child.

Ariel's face was emotionless as she leaned forward to take it, but almost as if she had snapped or recoiled, she slapped the spoon out of his hand and to the ground.

"Why are you poisoning me?" she demanded loudly, sitting up sharply, only to have to immediately return to a lawing down position, that one sentence having exhausted her of all her energy.

"Fairy, I would never hurt you-"

"No!" Ariel protested again, squirming to sit up, leaning on her pillow, her headboard, trying to find support where there was almost none.

"Now-!"

"Do you love me?" she had to grab at his sleeve to stay in a sitting up position.

A grin crept across his face. This may have been what he was waiting for! "Oh, darling, sweet, precious fairy. Of course I do."

"Then!-" Ariel stopped for a moment. She was a little out of breath yes, but she no longer felt compelled to finish the sentence she started. Instead, she said "I love you too."

…

Ariel wasn't dumb. She knew that Devon was putting something in her food. But she also had spent enough time straining against the locks of her door, using all of her waning strength to try and escape, to know that she had no other options. The first few days she had tried her hardest – lunging for the door as soon as she awoke, tugging and pulling and banging, hoping that it would give way, or that someone would come to investigate.

But the door was sturdy, the locks were secure, and either no one heard her cries for help, or no one cared enough to check. It was a large house, and both possibilities were equally likely. No one had even come in to speak to her, to even make sure she was still alive. Ariel had run out of options. There was no way for her to escape, and while she was sure people were looking for her, why would they look here? She had to find her own way out, somehow. And she had to do it quickly; life in this room was unbearable.

Whatever Devon kept feeding her, it was draining. Poison, she assumed. Some low-dosage that was just enough to force her into subservience, but not enough to kill her. She didn't know a lot about potions, and wasn't entirely sure what else it could be. But it hadn't killed her yet, and Ariel assumed that wasn't what Devon wanted.

He seemed, in his own odd, twisted way, in love with her.

It was how he kept staring at her, even when it made her uncomfortable. It was how he stroked her hair like he was matting fur down on a cat, it was in how he kept insisting on referring to her as a fairy, even though she most certainly was not one, and didn't like being referred to as such. He didn't love her properly, but he probably wouldn't have been able to say that. As far as he was concerned, he was the perfect man.

But could it be true, that this was the man she was supposed to be with? He seemed so insistent, making it so that, despite everything, she did find herself attached to him. He was the only one who spoke to her, the only one who brought her food. She did not love him, but perhaps she had been so shaken up by this dream that it had shaken her out of her true affections?

Still, more than anything, she wanted Eric to be real! She still hoped that this mystery man, the man of her dreams, did not exist only in dreams themselves! But over the course of the days that passed, she could remember less and less concrete parts of her past life, her fantasy, whatever it was. She remembered the wedding, a party, a weekend in a cottage…but other parts, those were fading. Sensory memories, like how he held her hand, or how she felt standing next to him, those had faded almost to the point of not existing.

She didn't want to live in this world, in this small boxy room where she had few things to entertain her, and no more comforts than Devon's bland conversation. She had to go see her family, they would sort this out for her, with her. Even if her mind was all befuddled, theirs would be clear, and they could separate the fact from the fiction.

But how to find them?

…

Two days had come and gone. Hell, a month had come and gone, and Eric didn't know if he was any closer to Ariel, but he knew he was closer to one thing.

Peace.

Ariel's disappearance had made the whole kingdom more somber, and like children who felt for their grieving parent, they seemed to be on their best behavior. Maybe it was Ariel's kidnapping, maybe it was all the effort he and Ariel had put in beforehand, maybe it was both. Eric wasn't sure, and he had more important things to think about than the exact combination that had let to his political success.

There were no more rumors as to protests, no rumblings or distrust, there was nothing but a somber acceptance over the whole kingdom, and it had been there for a while. Over a month had come and gone, and there was nothing.

Eric didn't know whether to be fully devastated or fully hopeful. There was no proof that she had been hurt or…worse. Which was encouraging. Maybe she was okay, just lost, just fighting. But, then again, she might not have found her way back for worse reasons. And Eric wasn't ready to grapple with them quite yet.

Not knowing was the worst part. Once facts came through, he could have something to fight, something to work towards. He wished that he knew exactly what he was up against – because at least then he could prepare! At least he could do something to better the situation, other than send guards out blindly, or make orders on gut instincts. There was nothing for him to do, but he was going to try and do everything.

He wished there was a way for him to go underwater and help Ariel's family look. He wished he had a way to contact them. But he didn't, and they hadn't returned for this month, presumably searching for her still. So Eric would spend his days planning and analyzing, and his nights waiting on the balcony overlooking the sea, hoping for his bride to come home.

 **Review, please!**


	13. A Fundamental Change

The announcement of Ariel's baby came with some very important conditions, Devon had stressed. For one, no one was to go near her, as she was very nervous about becoming too stressed or set off, which would harm the baby. The servants would prepare her meals and Devon's together, on trays, and Devon would bring the food into her room.

Ariel would remain downstairs in her room, just for her own comfort, and Devon would care for her and see to her needs. If anything was required, he'd orchestrate it and bring it to her. These rules were not to be broken.

The strangeness and rigidity of these rules were lost on the servants. For one, they were very used to Devon's formal and overcorrecting behavior, and this was not significantly strange enough to merit much noticing. Not to mention – there was a new baby! Such an exciting event could not be bogged down with complaining about a few rules. They would see the young woman – and the baby! – soon enough, besides. And they assumed they'd see the mother from time to time, once Devon realized pregnancy wasn't anything too scary.

Well, they were wrong.

Already a month had passed – could it had even been five weeks? – and they had yet to see the young bride or her new state, and the servants were so eager to do so. A few of the younger servants suggested snatching the keys somehow, peaking in just to say hello, but the elder staff knew that it was not only impossible to snatch keys under the Duke's nose, but extremely unwise.

Immediate-termination-of-your-position unwise. Greater-trouble-than-you-expected unwise. Unable-to-find-another-job-in-service-ever-again unwise. Ruining-your-career unwise. Very, very foolish.

So no one went to visit Ariel. Because Devon didn't want them to, their boss didn't want them to, so they didn't.

They weren't even entirely sure where she was placed. They knew it was somewhere downstairs – but there was the untouched, locked up guest wing, and then the visitors' wing which only had a few bedrooms, but no one had seen Ariel in them. One of them was locked all the time now, so they assumed that one, but they had seen Devo only pick up food trays and head off every which way.

To an outsider, perhaps, this would've all seemed quite odd. But there was only one outsider in Devon's estate, and she rested on a bed in an uncleaned room, hoping someone might make a change of pace, or take a change of heart.

…

It had been so long since Ariel had disappeared, but no one was willing to give up. Especially not Alana, who had made it her most important task to find and return her baby sister to where she really belonged.

Alana had thought over every possible idea where Ariel could be, and she had become so mad with her inability to locate Ariel, that she found herself swimming around the palace and kingdom, looking in places she had already looked, just in case she ended up there as well. It was not a successful strategy, and quite akin to looking for a needle in a haystack, but only examining the same three pieces of hay.

Alana floated through the palace, peaking in rooms and hoping that, by some grand miracle, Ariel would just be waiting in a sitting room, maybe mixed up on her dates or befuddled over something, but alive and well. This did not happen.

However, Alana did stumble upon a room she had forgotten all about, for no one in the family was ever really inclined to go in there – her father's potion room. It was tucked away by his diplomatic rooms, and wasn't particularly heavily guarded – no one but family ever came to this part of the castle anyway. In fact, she had all but forgotten that it existed.

Each wall in the room was lined with shelves and cabinets, containing vials and bottles of different sizes. They were labeled with pieces of tape, and Alana perused them all, scanning for anything that could make a former-mermaid-current-human disappear into thin air. There seemed to be nothing of the sort – at least, nothing that specific.

But there was something peculiar about one spot on the shelf. There was a gaping empty space, and the dust had been disturbed around it. Alana looked at the labeling on the shelf – sleeping draught. Something that could knock someone right out. It looked as if it was a vial of moderate size, and, most importantly, one that was just taken.

She swam around the room, and noticed several other things were missing. No mixed potions – ingredients instead. She didn't know what they were for or how to mix them, but this could be their first lead in over a month! Nervous, but excited at the prospect of finally getting somewhere, Alana swam out to find her father.

"Daddy!" she cried out, almost bumping into him as she turned a corner.

"Is something the matter?" he asked, concerned.

"Have you been using any potions? Drinking them, or giving them away?"

Triton furrowed his brow. "No, why?"

In spite of the entirety of the situation, Alana smiled. "Then I think I have our first official clue."

…

Devon sat in his study, spinning a vial around and staring at it. He hated that Ariel kept needing this stuff. If she could finally admit her sincere feelings, he wouldn't have to do this to her anymore, and their relationship could progress forward at last. But no. She was being stubborn, she was being insistent, and he certainly would not yield before she did.

He tried to envision ways that he was getting through to her – she was still talking to him, still eating what he brought her. She had warmed in the sense that a stew had warmed the second it was placed on the stove. She was warm under his touch, but he knew he was only feeling the after effects of his own heat.

One day it would be reciprocated. One day, soon. He wasn't sure if he knew or just hoped the last past, but he'd do anything to get there, so it didn't truly matter.

Maybe if he eased off her a bit, she would come around. Maybe if he gave her more potions, she'd have to. All he was sure of was that he needed a new, more effective plan of attack.

What that would be, he was not yet sure.

…

"We need to tell Eric." Alana insisted.

"Absolutely not." Triton said, waving his trident. "If you girls hadn't intervened, there wouldn't even be an Eric to talk to. Just a little pile of ash."

"Daddy!" Alana snapped. "It's not his fault – you saw how he looked, you heard what he was doing! He misses her just as much as the rest of us do, and he's doing all the searching possible on land. He needs to know what we know."

"He doesn't deserve to be a part of this family anymore, I don't even want to speak to him!" Triton said angrily, trying to turn away from his daughter.

But Alana continued to swim around and face him. "Don't do this! Your pride isn't more important than finding Ariel! What if this clue means something to Eric that he doesn't understand is important yet? What if this leads to another piece of the puzzle, brings us closer to her?"

Triton didn't respond.

"Look!" Alana continued. "You don't have to like Eric, or call him son, but you still have to involve him because even if you don't love him, Ariel does. And until she stops, he's as much a part of the family as I am."

"What's he even going to do?" Triton asked, after a pause.

"I don't know." Alana said, knowing she had finally broken through. "Maybe nothing. But I'm not willing to take the chance that we may give up our biggest lead and biggest chance. And I know you aren't either."

Triton didn't meet her gaze for several moments. But when he did, he said "Okay. Let's go find Eric."

It wasn't hard to find him. Whenever Eric was stressed, he went to the sea. He sat outside on sandy shores, staring out into the depths of the sea, as if he was hoping his wife would just pop out of the water like she had done so long ago.

"Eric!" Alana called out, waving her arm over the top of her head.

He moved so slowly now, and so simply. He didn't engage any muscles that weren't vital to the current task, as if he was trying to save all of his energy. He didn't wave back at Alana, and he didn't even seem to register who she was at first. Alana noticed the flash of joy at seeming a girl pop out of the water, but as soon as he registered her dark hair and lack of Ariel-ness, any hope drained.

Eric picked himself up and walked up to the shoreline, sitting back down, weary. "Hello, what brings you here?" he smiled a little, as if he had any ability for social visits.

"Eric, I don't want to get your hopes up."

"All my favorite sentences start that way."

"Just being honest!" Alana said defensively. "We didn't find Ariel, but we did find another clue. We're getting closer."

Now this interested Eric. "What? Where? What is it? Can I see?"

"You can't, but that's sort of the clue."

"Please don't be cryptic, Alana. Please."

"Sorry." She said hurriedly. Triton had still not even acknowledged the boy. "We went through the potion room – it's in a far flung part of the castle, no one ever really goes in, we didn't even think to look there – and there were potions missing that could've been used for a kidnapping."

Eric furrowed his brow. "Who would have access to them?"

"Well, that's a bit trickier. We have security, but not a ton around that area. It's not a secret that daddy has a potion room, of course the king would have stockpiles. But it'd have to be someone slick enough to get past the guards, and fast enough to do so without really being noticed by anyone."

"And I think I know when it could've happened."

"What?" Alana said, looking up at her father.

"When?" Eric pressed.

"I just thought of it now, actually. I don't check the potions often, but I do an inventory periodically. The last time I did it was just a few days before we threw that party for Ariel. There would've been a lot of people in the castle at that time – someone could've done it then."

"Oh, daddy, you're brilliant!" Alana cried, clasping her hands together.

"So, now we know that she's under the water, and probably with someone from the party!" Eric said, eagerness seeping into his voice. "How many people were there?"

"A good amount." Triton furrowed his brow. "But it'd be someone from my kingdom."

"We have to search the kingdom. I'll go get the girls – we'll organize!" Alana said excitedly, diving beneath the waves.

Triton moved to follow, but Eric held out a hand. "Sir." He said, very firmly. "With your permission and aid, I'd like to help look."

"You're already looking for her." Triton said dismissively.

"But we know she's not on land now, and that's where my abilities end. I know you can turn Ariel into a mermaid and I was wondering…if you could do the same for me."

Triton looked Eric up and down, but did not respond.

"Please." Eric pleaded. "I'm going crazy up here, searching endlessly with no results, no clues. I know an extra pair of eyes will help, and I know Ariel. I know I can help."

Triton looked at the boy sternly, no emotion on his face. This boy had lost his daughter, but he was also more adamant than anyone to find her. Alana was right, he had to put his pride aside if it meant helping Ariel.

"Alright." Triton said slowly, enunciating each syllable. "Are you ready now?"

"Yes. Always." Eric said, and Triton waved his trident.

Eric wasn't sure what he expected, and he was glad he didn't have time to brood on it before the golden spell engulfed him. It felt like two magnets begin dragged together regardless of their will. His legs were frozen together, uncomfortable close, and he could feel bone against bone grinding together as his skin seemed to melt into itself.

He had enough awareness to scoot himself into the water, and found himself thrown back into the water. He gasped out of surprise as his head hit the water – and found he could breathe! A cool sensation passed over his hips, and Eric discovered that's where his gills were. He pushed off into deeper water – finding himself soaring, swimming, loving it!

But there was no time to enjoy this newfound freedom. He had to find his wife.

 **Review, please!**


	14. The Next Discovery

Ariel laid there, what else was she supposed to do? There was nothing else _to_ do, there was no one to come save her. She fought thoughts of Eric, her imaginary dark haired prince that she now knew to be too good to be real. She had hoped he wasn't just a dream, just some sort of coping mechanism, but that wasn't the case, and it was time for her to face reality. Eric wasn't real. He was just a wonderful dream, that had taken her far, far away from this home.

She could remember why she had married Devon, but there was a ring on her hand and no one else seemed put off by her being here. And if there were any issues, her family surely would've have let her leave. Maybe things were better than she thought. Maybe he locked her up in here because she was crazy, talking about boys who didn't exist and sulking the day away.

But, still, she did not trust him. Ariel couldn't quite put her finger on why, there just seemed something off about Devon. He was somehow assured and unassured at the same time, and the unease of his existence could be felt almost tangibly. He always looked too intently, held her as if he was grounding her, and behaved as if she was going to swim off any minute. He loved her, as he so often insisted, and he wouldn't let her go. Ariel knew this.

So she dared not ask to leave.

Ariel also knew that she had to see her family if she was ever going to right herself. Maybe, somewhere deep beneath this confusion, Ariel really did love Devon, and this dream had dragged her into a realm she didn't belong in. Maybe this Dream Eric had pulled her head above water and disoriented her enough to make her forget about her actual husband and actual life. For goodness' sake, Ariel could barely remember more than a few thing with Devon!

She remembered their meeting, at a ball, but in a simplistic and one sided way, like she only recalled it as it had been told to her. She remembered his appearance at her party, and their brief interaction. Was that before or after they got engaged? Time hardly seemed real anymore either. She had fading memories of Eric. Going sailing together, sitting in a library. But for all of these memories, the true her wasn't there either – Dream Ariel had legs!

It just didn't make sense, it couldn't be real! Ariel knew that! Devon wouldn't have spent all this time, telling her stories, sitting with her, if he actual husband was somewhere else! Ariel knew she had dreamed this up, but there was only one issue left.

She didn't _want_ it to be a dream.

Ariel wanted, more than anything, to have that be her life. To have Dream Eric and Dream Ariel be an actual couple, and to spend her life as a human, up on the shores. Running free, dancing, living her life the way she always thought she was supposed to. Of course it was a dream, it was too beautiful to be real.

And although logic told her this, Ariel didn't want to believe it. She had to go see her family, she had to find out the truth. If they told her that Devon had always been her husband and that Eric wasn't real, then she'd return back to the manor and relearn how to be a happy wife. Ariel figured that would be what would happen. But she had to be sure.

Devon was drugging her with something, to minimize her spells, but Ariel knew that it was also holding her back. All of her strength had been sapped from her and ground up, and there would be so escape attempts while she was feeling so low. So she had to forego food entirely until she'd be able to build up the strength by offgassing the potions or powders or whatever it was he was giving her.

Not too long, for the lack of food would also make her weak. There had to be a sweet spot. Two days, maybe three. She'd have to gauge it well and give it her best effort, because Ariel may have be sure of very few things, but she knew she'd only get one shot at this.

…

Eric stretched out his fingers, marveling at how strange it felt to be fully one with the sea. He noticed the water still, but he didn't think Ariel's sisters did anymore. They must've become so used to it over the course of their lives, like how he had been desensitized to air or walking or anything typically human. It seemed infinitely more understandable why Ariel always took extra time to let the wind push her hair off her shoulders, or feel sand run through her fingers. It had struck him as odd when he found her sitting in a chair one day, running her fingers through her hair, for she still wasn't used to how it felt fully dry. Eric himself continued to rub his fin, excited by the bumps of the scales. It was foreign, but beautiful.

"Eric!" Andina snapped her fingers. "I know this is a rough time, but we all need to be together and fully present.

"I am." Eric nodded, folding his hands in his lap.

The whole family – well, minus Ariel obviously – had gathered in an informal dining room, spreading plans across a table. It had taken quite a bit of time to get everyone to agree on the best course of action, but at long last, it had been found.

"So do we all know the plan?" Attina asked.

Everyone nodded.

"Okay, we're gonna break into groups and go in shifts. We don't want to raise attention this time, because if people know that we're searching, then anyone who has something to hide will do just that." Alana said. "Artista, Eric, and I will go first."

The plan was to search the kingdom, every inch, looking for eerie and off-the-beaten path places where a mermaid could be properly hidden. They had no more clues, and would use only their gut and instincts. But they knew that would be enough. Maybe they didn't know. But they didn't have the luxury of acknowledging doubt right now.

"Let's swim." Artista smiled, and the three swam off.

They went through the offshoots of town – alleys and backways, checking for little ways to break in, checking for anything that could be a tunnel, a cabinet, a place where a petite mermaid could be hidden.

"We gotta go a little further out." Alana insisted. "We've checked the town, and I feel like someone would see her if she was just in someone's cottage."

"Not necessarily." Artista countered.

Alana shrugged. "Very true. But we've done more canvassing in town than out, and we've gotta look new places."

"I can't believe there's so much down here." Eric shook his head. "Ariel had described Atlantica to me, but I had never pictured this. Her descriptions do it justice, but I don't think I could've ever understood without seeing it for myself."

"We're glad you're here." Artista said kindly. "Though, we would've of course preferred different circumstances."

"You and me both." Eric grumbled.

"Look!" Alana pointed. "There's a cavern, and it's the perfect space for a mermaid to fit in."

"Do you really think whoever took her would hide her in a cavern?" Artista said doubtfully.

"Can we afford to not find out for sure?" Eric offered, and though the two girls said nothing, they both clearly agreed and swam forward.

There was a stone that could've been rolled forward to obstruct the entrance, but it was not positioned to do so. Maybe this was the kidnappers' fatal mistake! Maybe this would lead Eric back to Ariel! He swam excitedly in, and was overwhelmed by what he saw.

There was only one true source of light – overhead, where the cavern opened, looking only large enough for one person to fit through. Around him, was wreckage of a thousand different things, fallen into piles and most broken in some way. Smashed bottles, soaked books, paintings that had landed on candlesticks. A collection gone to waste.

"It's…Ariel's grotto." Alana breathed.

"She had kept it for years, we all knew of it, but never where it was." Artista shook her head. "We knew daddy ruined it, but never where it was…or how much their way."

Alana picked up a box of corkscrews. "She must've spent a lot of time putting this all together. She must've really loved these things."

Artista lightly lifted other things. "It's a shame it all fell apart."

Eric hadn't spoken, and he gulped, looking around at everything that was Ariel, before he could ever call her his. She had always loved the human world, that much was clear. Though the items were now mostly destroyed, Eric could see a system of arrangement, see how much work it must've been to find these treasures and haul them back, to place them all around this grotto. He could feel how hard it must've been, both in the physical sense of moving them, and the emotional sense of keeping it a secret. He picked up a small pocketwatch, cracked, probably from impact. She deserved to have it back, to have everything back that had been taken from her.

She deserved to see her grotto, to see land, to be wherever she wanted to be, whenever she wanted. Eric knew now how much both land and sea meant to her, in a way he hadn't been able to understand before. Ariel was not just human, and she was not just a mermaid. She was both, she was everything, and he was going to find her.

He trailed around, letting his fingers just barely graze over the treasures. He wanted to remember every bit of this.

"Eric, we've gotta keep looking." Alana waved him down.

Eric nodded, and although he knew it was mostly symbolic in nature, he felt as if he had found her once more. And that would sustain him until he saw her again.

 **Review, please!**


	15. An Escape

Ariel's instinct was right – two days seemed to be the perfect amount of time to go without food. Her head felt lighter; not weighed down with the potions he was drugging her with. She was hungry, yes, but the pain would be worth it if it meant she could get this all sorted out. She knew all of her energy was due to adrenaline, and, for the first time, she waited eagerly for Devon to show up. Once he arrived, she could escape.

She ran over the plan in her head, time and time again, knowing she had only one shot, and hoping it would kill time. She would wait for Devon to bring the meal in. He would unlock the doors, and he always left them unlocked as he sat with her. But, this time, he would be waiting by the door, just outside the frame. As soon as he opened the door, she's swim out as quickly as possible. If she could get out of the house, he wouldn't dare stop her. It was a perfect plan. She knew these oceans better than anyone, and as soon as she was out the doors, she was confident she'd be able to figure out where she was, and return home, regardless of how much of the potions were still in her system.

She wasn't willing to entertain any other ideas. This plan was the best it could be, considering her circumstances, and Ariel wasn't willing to let negative thinking hold her back as well.

Devon's keys made the same noise every time they approached her room, and it gave Ariel just enough warning to swim from her resting place to the doorframe. She held her breath, not wanting to tip him off, even a little. She heard the clunk as he rested the tray down, the jingling of keys, and the heavy thumps of the locks sliding out of place. He nudged the door open, just four or five inches, and Ariel saw him bend over to pick the tray up again.

Perfect.

She threw open the door and bolted, swimming down the hall and pushing off walls. This was more than she had moved in God knows how long, and she found herself growing dizzy, pushing off walls to keep from running into them. She stumbled into a table and knocked over a vase, cringing at the sound it made. Where were the doors? A window? Any way out? She whipped her head around, looking for a person to help, a way to escape, for anything to steady her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Devon had recovered from his momentary stun and was now in full pursuit.

Feeling even more overwhelmed, Ariel began swimming even more quickly, or maybe she wasn't, she wasn't fully aware of everything around her. Nothing felt real, she wasn't even sure if she was swimming. She was so lightheaded, so devoid of energy.

What else was there to do? Ariel tried to think quickly. She didn't think it'd be this hard to find her way out! She knew her own two castles so well, she didn't think a third could be that hard to understand! Ariel had only ever seen the room she woke up in and the room she was being held in – she didn't understand! She didn't understand! There was too much, and there was no way out, but there had to be a way out, and maybe there was no way out of this castle at all, and it was just some terrible nightmare she had conjured up amidst a dream about her Prince.

"Help!" she cried out, finally. Maybe one of the servant was nearby, maybe someone was dusting a room or doing something, and they would see her and help her and guide her back to her family, where she could rest up and settle down and finally figure out what was going on.

"Hel-!" she cut herself off and gasped.

There was the door! Two, big, beautiful double doors, heavy and ornate. She didn't hear keys behind her, the giveaway noise that Devon was coming, she had just a few precious seconds to make it, but it would be enough. She was free!-

Devon yanked her back, suddenly, and Ariel felt as if he had ripped her in two.

"Do – not – ever – do – that – again!" Devon said through gritted teeth, enunciating every word. He wrapped his arms around hers, yanking her back into her room.

She writhed and struggled and eventually let out a sob, collapsing into his choking hold as he yanked her back into the room. There was no use. She was so close, but now there was no escape. Devon flung her onto the bed, scratching her in the process; his hold so tight it was sure to leave bruises. Ariel had no time to mourn her physical pain, she felt too awful already.

"You are my _wife_ , you are _mine_ , and you shall _not_ behave in such a way _ever_ again." Devon hisses, ripping her sheet into ribbons and binding her wrists to her bedposts.

Ariel barely resisted, overcome by her own sobs of pain. This man could not be her husband. Maybe Eric wasn't real, but she would not marry, her family would not let her marry someone, who would behave this cruelly. Escape was her best option this morning, now, it was her only option. She did not love this man, and he didn't love her. He existed only to hurt her, and now she wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to leave.

Devon left the room in a huff, picking his keys up off where he had dropped them on the ground. Ariel heard the definitive clinks of the locks being slid into place, like nails into a coffin.

She heard them again when he returned, bearing something more sinister.

Ariel tried to undo her wrist bounds, feeling a panic when she saw the heavy chain in his hand.

"Don't bother." He said, half gloating, half snapping. "If you're even able to get those undone, it won't be before I can get this on you."

Ariel felt her heart sink below her stomach. Nothing mattered.

Devon clasped one end of the chain around her tail, and the other to the bottom bedpost.

"There." He said, proudly. "You can swim off again, but only if you can drag the estate behind you."

Ariel thrashed in defiance and lost a last bit of hope when she realized the bed was bolted to the floor.

…

Devon stormed out in a huff, righting table and paintings Ariel had disrupted in her foolhardy endeavor. How dare she? **How dare she**? After everything he had done for her, after everything he had sacrificed to be with her, she does this to repay him?! She doesn't ask to go on a walk, to have him bring her what she wanted, whatever she wanted outside he would've brought her!

It was clear now that she didn't even want to try! She had been refusing food, refusing to talk to him, refusing anything that would help their relationship. She loved him, he knew that, but _why wouldn't she show it?_

"Sir!"

Devon shot his head up, making eye contact with Gilda.

"Sir, what happened?"

"Oh, shut up!" Devon snapped, far beyond the end of his rope. "Clean this up." He waved his hand at the mess. "I've seen these rooms, they're filthy." He continued, unloading a lot of his anger on the poor old woman. "You know you're supposed to keep these rooms in better shape – they should've been cleaned out months ago!"

"Sir, I know, I'm sorry." Gilda stammered, wrapping her hands up in her apron.

"Don't apologize for the problem when you should've fixed it in the first place!" Devon yelled. "Clean this whole house up, dammit! Don't give me this impertinence ever again!"

He swam into his study and slammed the door, and Gilda, terrified out of her wits, got to work immediately, cleaning out the rooms she had postponed for so long.

…

Artista gasped suddenly and giggled.

"What?" Eric asked, looking for the source of her mirth.

"Alana should know where to look next." She leered at her sister.

"What?" Alana asked.

"Why don't we go to your creepy ole boyfriend's house?" Artista teased.

"You have a boyfriend?" Eric asked, smiling at Alana.

"No!" Alana immediately jumped to her own defense. "Artista is just being stupid."

"Don't be so defensive." Artista said in a sing-song voice, flipping over. "You're in loooooooove."

"I am not!" Alana lunged for her baby sister. "He probably loves you more, and you're just trying to push it off on me!"

"Nuh uh!"

"Or maybe he was hittin' on Ariel after all!"

"What?" Eric interjected again. "Who was this?"

"Wait, you don't know about Devon?" Artista asked.

"Tell me everything." Eric said quickly.

"He comes to some of the royal parties, 'cause he's a duke. He lives in this creepy old estate on the outskirts of Atlantica, and he always tries to spend time around the girls, and the last ball he spent time around me, and Ariel, and Artista." Alana explained quickly. "He wasn't actually hitting on her, probably."

"I want to see this guy."

"Oh, Eric, we didn't mean to say anything." Alana insisted.

"He doesn't sound right." Eric continued. "And a big estate, that's also creepy, that's far away from town?" he raised an eyebrow.

"She's probably not there."

"Can we afford to not be sure?" Eric said definitely.

The two girls said nothing, but Alana pointed to the left, and the trio began swimming towards Devon's estate.

 **Review, please!**


	16. What Makes Us Girls

Gilda got ahold of herself quickly. She had been yelled at before. She had been yelled at by Devon before. It was never fun, and she tried her best to avoid it as much as possible, but she took it and then picked up the pieces, she always did. A boss had a right to yell at his employees after all, especially when they were intruding like she was. She had no right to ask him anything, but he was normally reasonably permitting, so she had gotten to comfortable, too informal. It was her fault, really.

So she moved through the rooms, determined to clean them quickly, but not as determined as she was to clean them well. Yes, Duke Devon would be upset if she wasn't by the end of today – end of tomorrow, at least, but he'd be more upset if he found all sorts of gunk or unpristine conditions than if she was slow. He wasn't an unreasonable man.

Each room took about ten minutes to get through. She would sweep and dust, and arrange anything that might've somehow gone askew. It wasn't a lot of stuff – the rooms were seldom, if ever, entered. Cleaning them was always a "just in case", in case company came or family manifested itself. No one was ever intended for these rooms.

She got into a rhythm quickly, humming a bit to herself as she worked from room to room. After a few hours, she felt the pains returning in her back and decided to take a little break, sinking down into an overstuffed chair and resting her eyes.

Resting.

Resting.

Resting.

After a few minutes, she decided to continue onto her third room, struggling with the locked door. Ah, this happened all the time. These old locks got jammed up with salt or rusted a little, nothing a few pins couldn't jimmy open. Gilda had been doing this so long, that she didn't even bother asking Devon for keys anymore.

She continued humming as she fiddled with the lock, stopping when she heard the sound of something breaking or metal clanging. Ah well, if there was an issue, she'd get to it soon. She swung open the door.

A soft "oh!" escaped Gilda's lips, and she dropped the rag she had been holding. This was not just a dirty room, not just another chore she may have neglected for a bit too long. This was a guest room being used by someone who was supposed to be treated better than any guest. This was a room with a queen sized bed, inhabited by someone who used the term in an almost literal sense. This was the resting place of a beautiful young mermaid, with her fin bound to the bars of the bed – a young Ariel, who looked very tired, very scared, and, despite what Gilda had been told, very _not_ pregnant.

Ariel's perfectly flat stomach had scratch marks, one which had scabbed over. The girl had dark circles under her eyes, and she immediately lunged for Gilda, restrained only by the chain on her fin.

"Oh, my!" Gilda exclaimed again, swimming over.

"Please, please undo me." Ariel cried, tears brimming up in her eyes. "Please, quickly, before he comes back for me."

Gilda didn't want to believe this. She didn't want to believe that her boss, the man she had spent her whole career with, was capable of doing such a thing. Gilda also knew what would happen to her if she was caught undoing this chain. She would be fired, at least. If Devon could find right to do worse to her, whatever that may be, he would do it. Maybe this Ariel was a menace, or a criminal Devon was harboring for whatever reason. Maybe this situation was too complicated for Gilda to understand. But Ariel spoke of him as if he was a monster, not a merman, and Gilda knew what had to be done.

"Girls should always help girls in bad situations, don't you think?" she said, not expecting an answer, and went to work on jimmying the lock.

…

"There it is." Alana said, pointing out the estate to Eric.

Eric scrunched up his nose. Just from what he had heard of Devon, he didn't like him. Eric was quick to notice any fault of the estate, out of a harbored need to see everything wrong with this man who was hitting on his wife, while knowing she was married. It was faded. The lawn wasn't neat. It was underwater. Who was this dope, anyway?

He stalled for a second. They had no preface for just showing up to the house. Devon probably didn't even know who he was. He may welcome the sisters in, but what was their excuse for showing up in the first place? Should they try a different entrance, or would the servant find that suspicious?

"Guys, how do we get in?" Eric eventually asked, turning to the sisters.

"I think we can just knock. He's very formal, he'll probably let us in then and there." Alana said.

"Besides," Artista smirked, jabbing at Alana. "One his One True Love arrives at his door, how could he say no?"

"Oh, shut up." Alana rolled her eyes, trying not to giggle at the joke. "Let's just get in."

"Do you think he'd have any ideas? Maybe he keeps to himself 'cause he knows the underbelly of the city."

"Yes, I'm sure he runs a black market that knows all the kidnappers and hooligans of Atlantica."

"Oh, hush, it was just an idea!" Artista retorted, swimming up and knocking on the door. "Maybe he knows more than we'd think, we're just gonna ask. Worst he can do is say no."

…

"Here, darling, move quickly." Gilda took off her own shawl and wrapped it around the girl, who looked like she was about to dissolve out of anxiety. "We'll get you out, and back to the palace, and have this all sorted out in a jiffy, whatever it is."

"Thank you, thank you," Ariel repeated, her voice wobbling. "He took me, and bound me, and I just want to go home, I just want to sleep."

"Oh, honey. You don't look so good." Gilda held her face, growing more and more concerned that this girl may be telling the truth, and that her story of Devon's cruelty, though so outrageous, may be justified.

Gilda knew she had to help. This girl should not be here any longer.

Even glancing at her, you could tell something was wrong. There was a red mark around her tail where she had been bound, and her skin was so clear it was almost translucent. Her arms were so skinny, all of her was so skinny, unhealthily so. She didn't look like she could've possibly carried a child, or like she ever had. Gilda didn't know what was going on, but with every passing moment she became more and more sure she was doing the right thing by smuggling the girl out of the house.

Gilda tugged the shawl closer around Ariel's startling bright hair, hoping this little gesture would make her somehow unrecognizable. It didn't really, but she felt better nonetheless.

"We'll go out the servants' entrance, he's never around there." Gilda said, half to Ariel, half assuring herself. She knew there'd be grave punishment if Devon actually say what she was doing, or if he ever even learned she was the reason why his bride escaped. But Gilda also knew this was worth it, and she repeated this to herself as a sort of mantra. Girls should always help girls in these sort of situations. Girls should always help each other.

They passed through the servants' hall with no consequence, much to their relief. At long last, after weeks of waiting and trying and praying and descending into a sort of confusing madness, Ariel was in open water, and she was headed home.

…

"No one's answering." Artista said, clicking her tongue with annoyance.

"Would he be ignoring us?" Eric asked.

"Probably." Alana sulked. "He got real mad at us when he came over to eat – kind of invited himself over, anyway."

"We were just having fun, he didn't have to be such a party pooper."

"Whatever, maybe we can come back later."

"No." Eric said firmly. "I wanna talk to this guy. Let's try around back."

"Okay."

"That's fine."

They hooked right, and began to unknowingly swim towards the servants' entrance.

…

She was…free.

Well, not yet. Ariel first had to get back home, get her answers, get rested up. But she was out of her room, and back in the open sea! It had been so long since she had felt currents, so long since she had seen light unfiltered by windowpanes! This woman, this angel, had swaddled her up and was escorting her from the palace and back to her family! Ariel could not believe her luck! Surely no one, not in the history of the world, had ever had all of their dreams come true like this.

Oh no.

What if she was in another dream? Like the one before, with her dream prince? What if this savior was just another figment of her imagination, dreamed up in order to help her cope with her life as Devon's bride? Would she wake up screaming in just a few moments, with Devon holding down her shoulders? If she told him about this new fantasy, would things get worse?

"I can't do it…" Ariel began to falter, sobs choking up her throat.

"What? What's wrong? Is your tail hurting?" Gilda asked quickly, quietly.

"You have to tell me you're real! Prove it!" Ariel lunged forward, grabbing the sleeves of Gilda's uniform, half to show urgency, and half for support. "Please, tell me if this is a dream!"

"Dream? Sweet pea, what are you talking about?" Gilda said, grabbing the girl's hands.

Just as Ariel moved to explain again, Eric and her two sisters appeared.

"It _is_!" Ariel wailed, defeated. All of her hope was gone.

…

"Ariel!" Eric, Artista, and Alana yelled in unison, rushing for her.

"Thank you for helping her!" Alana released her sister to hug the maid. "Whoever you are, thank you!"

"Are you okay? I'm here, I'm sorry, I'm here." Eric said, pulling Ariel as tight as he could, ignoring that Artista was trying to do the same.

"Oh, don't do this to me! Just let me go!" Ariel cried, rubbing her sore hands across her eyes.

"Darling, I'm sorry, I know this is my fault. Believe me, I'll know for the rest of my life." Eric said, cupping her face. "But we've all come to get you, and we're gonna take you back home, and I'll find a way to make this up to you. Somehow. Whatever you want, it's yours."

"No, no, no." Ariel shook her head, trying to free herself from his hands.

"Please, Ariel." Eric said, on the verge of tears. "I couldn't blame you if you never wanted to see me again, but I love you and I want to make everything up to you. If there's anything I can do to fix this, please let me do it! I wanna take you back up to land, to the palace, and we can go to the countryside cabin, or spend days on the beach, or go sailing, or dancing, or shopping, or whatever you want, and whatever will let you be happy again."

"Stop!" Ariel cried, breaking free and swimming to the front of the palace.

All four chased after her, Alana finally catching her by the wrist and forcing her to stop.

"Ariel, darling, come on now. He was wrong, but we all just want to help. Let's get you back to the castle and get you cleaned up, then we can all work through this and see what to do next." Alana said softly.

"Stop saying these perfect things!" Ariel yelled, trying to tug herself away. "All of you! You're just gonna make it so much harder when I wake up."

"Ariel, honey, this isn't a dream!" Artista assured her. "We mean everything we're saying."

"Of course it is!" Ariel insisted, turning to face Eric. "I knew I dreamed you up, I know you can't be here!"

"You might be confusing me with a nightmare, but nevertheless, I'm here." Eric said dryly. "I promise that I'm real."

"Prove it!" Ariel bellowed.

"How?"

"I don't know! Tell me something I couldn't have dreamed!"

"Our wedding had hundreds of white lilies. Your favorite dress is the yellow one with the seashells embroidered. When you get your legs back, there will be a little scar on your right knee from a sailing accident. You think I don't know, but you sometimes steal forks from the banquet table and keep them in the third cave down the beach."

Ariel found herself smiling a little. She could picture it all so clearly! But was it cause he just described it?

"The dress," she said, flicking up her eyes to meet his, and picturing the dress in her mind. "What color are the ribbons on the sleeve?"

"A very light blue, and you usually wear one of the same color in your hair." Eric smiled, inching closer to her.

Just as she thought!

"And I love you." He breathed, pulling her closer. "I don't deserve you, after everything that's happened, but I love you now and I always will."

She reached up a hand to cup his cheek. "I'm just so glad that you're _real_."

 **Review, please!**


	17. Striking

The shouting grabbed Devon's attention, and the curiosity of who could possibly be yelling forced him out of his brooding and over to the window, where he saw a nightmarish scene he never could've dreamed up himself. His bride, whom he knew he had left in her locked room, was outside his home, surrounded by two of her sisters, his Gilda, and another merman, whose face she was lovingly cupping.

No, it couldn't _be_!

She had to be stopped; Ariel had to be brought back into the home and left alone until she could finally understand that she was meant to marry him! If she was kidnapped from his home, she didn't act as if she minded, standing there and laughing with her captors. Devon was outraged at the whole scene, and his mind raced, trying to think of ways to counteract this.

His mad, half-formed plans were useless the second he and Eric made eye contact.

There was a great shouting from below, as the group of five raced into the home with no abandon, wanting only to bring Devon to justice, even if that involved dragging him through the streets. Devon could hear their clamoring the second they entered him home, flinging open doors and rushing through the house, where they flung open doors and searched rooms franticly and thoroughly.

He needed to defend himself from these invading criminals. Devon whipped his head around – he had no gun, no sword, just his papers and his potions. And since he could very well paper cut his way out of this scenario, he knew what he had to do.

Devon raced to his wall of vials, and began mixing several foul ones together. They were the most destructive ingredients he had, and he was not only willing to use them on this thieving merman, he couldn't _wait_ to. The potion seared off scales, which would dissolve his tail wherever it touched. He would burn and scar and bleed out where he fell.

There was no desire to do this to the sisters, and Devon only hoped that they would learn their place as soon as they saw what happened to the dark haired merman, and keep their mouths shut. Maybe he would have to keep them in his home until they realized what was wisest for them to do. Devon smiled a bit at that last thought. Three beautiful mermaids in him home, fairy-like and ethereal, floating about and falling in love with him…

A sudden crash stirred him from his dreams, and Devon knew he had to keep moving. He knew this house better than anyone, and knew he could successfully use that to his advantage. On the opposite wall, he slid a painting to the side, revealing a tunnel he could use to escape to other rooms. His whole house was designed with foresight and security in mind. Clutching the vial, he gave himself one last advantage – feeling the side of the wall for a small box, which allowed him to cut off all electricity in the house.

And, as the painting slid back into place behind him, Devon found that he was perfectly hidden in walls only he knew, and he would have his revenge at last, and finally secure Ariel has his bride.

…

"I swear to-" Grimsby mumbled, filing more letters on Eric's desk.

"Uh oh, do my ears deceive me?" Carlotta chuckled, helping to open letters.

"Carlotta if there's any time for improper language, it's now. Eric has been gone-"

"Since this morning, only!" Carlotta sighed. "It's not even four Grim, he's barely missed tea."

"He left no note! Told no one! In an era where royals have been kidnapped and-" he could seem to bring himself to finish the sentence.

"Oh, Grim." Carlotta said softly, reaching out to pat his arm. "You needn't get yourself all worked up! Yes he left rather suddenly, but I am beyond confident that he thought of some new place to look for Ariel, and ran off without thinking. Eric would not be kidnapped so easily that he could be taken silently in midmorning! Besides, there has been peace in the kingdom for weeks now, with no protests nor murmurs, and the surrounding countries have been settling as well. As soon as Ariel is back home, all will be as it was before."

"I hate that phrase." Grimsby sighed. "All will never been as it was before, it defies not only the nature but the meaning of time itself."

"He'll be back, we'll find Ariel, and all will be well. Maybe in a new way, but we will have what's important." Carlotta insisted. "Until then, we will organize his mail, make sure there's nothing too urgent. I promise you, he'll be back soon, apologizing profusely and insisting he knows better."

"He does." Grimsby grumbled.

Carlotta gave a soft smile. "Cut him a break. He's got a lot on his mind."

…

Eric turned around the room slowly. He had every disadvantage here, and he knew it. He was in completely new territory – not just in a new building, but a new terrain altogether! He had swam in the ocean before, but had never been more than, say, 20 feet below the surface, and he especially had not done so for an extended period of time. And, maybe most damningly, he was mad. This leech had kidnapped Ariel and held her hostage, and he didn't even have the courage to come out and meet them. Eric was going to kill him, he knew it.

"Girls, stay back. I don't want you hurt."

"And we don't want you hurt!" Artista snapped. "Now is not the time to be recklessly macho, Eric. We're all going to find him, and we're certainly not going to hang back while you try and get the man who hurt baby sister."

"I'm just looking out for you."

"We're capable of doing it ourselves. We're all looking out for each other, besides." Alana added.

Eric turned to Ariel. "Ariel, please. At least you. I've lost you twice now, and I'm really not looking to make the third time a charm."

Ariel was still dazed, head still spinning, and slightly malnourished. "I want to find him. Eric, I have to make this stop. For good."

"Ariel-" Eric pleaded.

"We'll guard her, and so will you. Devon is no match for the five of us." Artista promised.

Gilda said nothing, but stayed close to the group, deep in thought.

The group rounded a corner, where double doors awaited them. Eric pushed them open, and revealed a room full of large paintings, hung all over the walls. There were large tables covered completely by tablecloths, and several doors that could be closets, or simply doors to other rooms.

"Stay out here." Eric instructed.

"Absolutely not." Artista and Alana said simultaneously.

"We've already discussed this." Alana added.

Eric sighed, impatient. "Girls, it's my job to protect you as well. There's too many places he could be hiding, I can't watch both of you and look for him. One of us is bound to get surprised, and we can't afford to give him a moment's advantage."

"Eric, we aren't four. It's not your job to take care of us." Alana said, irritated.

"We love Ariel just like you do, and we're going to help. We're just as much of an asset, and we won't stand for this act anymore."

Eric glared at them, but wasn't about to waste time arguing, so he slipped inside, followed by the two sisters and Gilda.

Eric couldn't hear anything but the consistent, gentle current he was not yet desensitized to and the loud hammering of his own pulse. The room, the gallery, was incredibly still and Eric feared that his own motion may disturb some precious balance that was keeping everyone safe. But still, every room had to be checked.

The eyes on the paintings watched him and he feared that their eyes would suddenly jump, or that Devon would emerge from one to reclaim his lost prize. Eric couldn't let that happen, he wouldn't let that happen, but he feared that the choice would be somehow taken from him.

There was a sudden crash behind him, and Eric whipped around, hypersensitive to what the girls were doing, out of his sheer determination to guard and protect them.

But it was only Ariel, who had knocked a silver candlestick off of a table.

"Ariel!" Eric gasped. "Are you okay?"

Her eyes got wide, and she didn't get a chance to answer Eric before Devon appeared behind him, flinging an unknown potion onto Eric's blue tail.

Eric cried out in pain, dropping instantly to the floor. It seared through the scales slowly and painfully, and he felt his head spinning. He tried to force himself to stay conscious, but welcomed the darkness at the same time, as a sort of respite. He leaned his head back to look at Devon, and noticed a painting swing back into place, now sure that he was hallucinating.

Artista gasped and rushed forward to his, causing Devon to spin to the side and face her. He held up the bottle and shook it menacingly.

"I'd hate to ruin such a pretty girl. I don't want to, honestly." He saw darkly, lowly.

Artista froze, gazing just over his shoulder.

"Now, come on, Devon." She said, holding up her hands. "I just want to check on Eric. I just wanna make sure he's okay."

"Eric!" Devon sneered. "How could he be fine, knowing that Ariel loves me more than she loves him? Knowing that he has to steal her out of my very home in order to have her at all? Knowing that he has to cloud her head with false promises and lies in order to get her to stay?"

"That's-not-true!" Eric gasped out, laying a hand over the wound Devon gave him.

"Of course it is! And just as I get close to Ariel, just as she's about to admit her love for me, you swoop back in! It's disgusting!"

"We'll talk this through!" Artista insisted, lifting her hands up in a 'surrender' position. "Eric, please remove your hands, I just wanna see your wound from here. Make sure it's okay."

Eric didn't know if he even had enough strength to do that, he was so drained, so pained, so dizzy, but he somehow found it in him to do so, and collapsed completely on the floor, grateful that the girls were there, for he knew that if they weren't, Devon would've killed him by now.

The wound revealed was shocking in and of itself. There was no blood, no exposed bone, just a tan patch of skin, as if the scales had been merely plucked off.

"What the-?"

Devon never got a chance to finish his sentence, for with a deft swing of the silver candlestick, Alana had struck the back on his head, sending him slumping to the floor.

…

"Thank you for distracting him Artista." Alana smiled, grabbing the potion out of Devon's hand.

"As soon as we made eye contact, I knew what you were going to do." Artista smiled. "Quick, let's bring him back to the palace, he can be tried this evening!"

"No." Gilda held up a single hand, and spoke her first word since the hunt began.

"What?" Ariel objected.

"Jail is too good for him. The hope of getting out of jail is too good for him." Gilda said bitterly, turning to Ariel. "I saw what he did to you, and there is no punishment Atlantica can hand down that is just. Take Eric outside, get him healed. Let Ariel lay down. I will serve my master."

The group was silent, looking back at her. Gilda held the same hand out flat, looking at Alana.

Alana gave her a curt nod, and handed over the potion. She swam over to where Ariel and Artista were soothing Eric, and the three girls picked him up and began to carry him outside.

"Wait." Ariel murmured to her sisters, turning then to face Gilda. "We're gonna take him outside to get some air, but as soon as you're…done, then please come back to the palace with us."

Gilda looked at them. "Take him back to the palace, please. I don't know how bad this potion is. But as soon as I've finished with Devon, I will meet you there. I promise."

This satisfied the sisters, and they took the nearly-unconscious prince home.

…

"I can't believe it. No," Gilda paused, running a finger down the vial. "I don't want to believe it. There's enough evidence where I certainly can."

Devon was twitching, barely conscious, and already in searing pain.

"After all that people have done for you, after how we've trusted and helped you, you do _this_?" Gilda hissed. "This wouldn't be acceptable, even if we had been cruel and unkind our whole lives, even if you had never known a moment's peace. That girl is not your property and you had no right to hold her. And you made us all accomplices! You lied and snuck around and made us all think everything was just fine while there was a horrendous crime going on under our noses!"

"Gil-"

"Do not speak my name!" she yelled, leaning forward. "You have no right to speak to me, to Ariel, to any decent merperson in all the seven seas! Anyone who does what you have done, is no merman at all."

Gasping, struggling to right himself, Devon looked up at Gilda.

"So I'm not going to let you be a merman." She said softly, uncorking the vial. "You found this vial suiting for your worst enemies, so I figured it'd be fitting to be used on you."

"No, _no_ \- **_aaAAARRRUGHH_**!" Devon screamed out in pain as soon as the potion touched his tail.

The scales burned off with a hiss and a steam, leaving a horrible stench that was far worse than anything that happened to Eric. Devon yelled, and screamed, and writhed, losing more blood and revealing a fleshy hole where his red scales once were. Gilda clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle a scream and to block some of the smell. The scene was horrific, but she couldn't bring herself to feel even a sliver of regret about what she was doing.

"Stop it, please, I'd give anything!" Devon pleaded. "Stop it, Gilda!"

"Don't you think Ariel would've given anything to have her freedom again?" Gilda dumped more potion on his tail, and the searing and bleeding worsened. "Don't you think she will spend the rest of her life wishing these months could be undone? That she could have them back, to spend with her friends and family? People who actually love her?"

"I-I-"

"Even now!" Gilda snapped, exasperated. "Even now you can't admit that you're wrong!" she sloshed more potion across his tail, creating the largest wound yet.

He stammered gibberish, bleeding out so intensely that Gilda could see how the blood swirled around her. She poured the potion on any unwounded skin until he made no more noise and laid there only, mangled and bleeding still.

It was a violent death, for a violent man.


	18. Belonging

**I write fanfic for many reasons; to get better at writing, because I like feedback, because I like the sources I write on, and, for one I'm going to elaborate on more, to impart lessons that I've learned, as I'm learning them. I'm too young to qualify as being 'old and wise', but sharing wisdom at any age is, in my option, a worthwhile endeavor. This story is about men. Normally I don't add notes explaining the moral, but I know a lot of my reading base is younger girls, who are just starting to date or get crushes, and even if I don't personally know you, I care about your well-being and safety. Reminder that not every polite man is a good one, and to always trust your gut. Remember that if I guy doesn't respect your wishes (even for small things, like calling you a fairy when you aren't one and don't like being called that) that's a bad sign, and could be a signal of worse things to come. Remember that no one has a right to take you for granted, or to assume that you're theirs. Remember you never have to choose between romantic and platonic life, it's possible to have both. Remember that even good men may underestimate you, and that's their fault and their problem. You don't need to be protected, you don't need a man to explain to you what's best for you, and you're the hero in your own story. As always, thank you for reading, reviewing, and favoriting, it means the world. Enjoy the final chapter of** ** _Belonging_** **.**

It was past sundown when the group came back to the palace, and they were met with cheers and hugs and expressions of joy in every possible way. Tears were shed, kisses were shared, more hugs were given, but any possible parties were cut short by the incredible need to let Eric and Ariel heal, physically and mentally. Both were helped back to bedrooms, where Ariel insisted that they were to be together.

This wish was granted, and they first fell into a deep sleep, one they had most certainly earned.

Late the next morning, they awoke. Ariel was up first, and while she didn't feel exactly peppy, she had spent enough of the past weeks laying around to want to do any more of that. She pulled her fin to her chest and sighed, looking around the guest room. She had never spent much time in here as a child, she had a room of her own, after all, and much more exciting things to do outside of the palace. She may never have entered this room at all. None of the guest rooms were particularly ornate, and there were certainly plenty of them in the palace. Ariel felt a sudden pang of sadness at this. There were so many parts of her underwater world and life that she never properly explored, before flinging herself to wider and greater things.

After spending weeks with her fins back, she found that they no longer felt foreign, but rather, like they were her own again. She supposed she had never lost them – like she hoped, like she feared – but had rather just become desensitized to them. She was a human now, forever, but she was also a mermaid. Both identities were hers, and she felt them both fully.

But she knew where she truly wanted to be, and as soon as Eric awoke, she told him.

"Eric, I want to go back home."

"Home?" he repeated, hoping she meant what he thought she meant.

"To the palace. Ours."

Eric smiled up at her. "Good. Me too." He flipped his fin around. "Don't get me wrong, this is an astounding feeling, but I left Grim hanging, and I miss home. But I wouldn't go back without you."

"What if I said I wanted to stay here, in Atlantica?" Ariel asked.

"I would stay with you." Eric said firmly. "I'd have to work out some sort of succession, so it may involve swimming up to the surface a lot, but we'd find a way to work it out. This is, of course, assuming you'd want me to stay."

"Oh, Eric." Ariel wrapped her arms around him. "Of course. I wished for you every day when I was held up there. I just…didn't always know whether or not you were real."

"I am. This is real. I promise no lies, no games, no nothing. We'll get everything sorted out for you again. I'm so sorry that you had to go through this. Until you're better and beyond, we'll talk. I won't lie by omission, and certainly not outright."

"It's not your fault-"

"It is-"

"It's not. We both made mistakes, but the only one who holds blame here is Devon. And he's gone." Ariel said, assuring them both.

"For good." Eric smiled.

Ariel sprung forward to kiss his cheek. "Let's head downstairs, I'm sure everyone is up and waiting."

With an unpracticed, awkward motion, Eric swung up from under is covers.

"What did this potion do to you?" Ariel paused, speaking softly, scooting closer and touching the skin patch revealed.

"I'm not entirely sure." Eric said truthfully. "All I know if that Devon dumped it on me, and it seared like the very fires of hell. Ariel, I've been through military training, almost died at sea, and went through my fair share of boyhood injuries. This felt worse than all of them combined."

"Oh, no." Ariel said, cupping his face in sympathy.

"But what's funny, is that it doesn't hurt at all now. And there's no redness, no blood…"

"It looks like your leg." Ariel remarked.

Eric felt the revealed patch. "Actually…" he mused. "You might be right. I don't know a lot about spells, but the one that turned me into a merman felt like it was zipping my legs together and covering them with scales."

"Maybe the potion Devon had could only hurt fish tails. Maybe it couldn't hurt you once it got to the human parts." Ariel mused.

"I don't know." Eric said truthfully. "And, to be honest, I don't want to dwell on it – on him – enough to figure it out. What's happened has happened, but from now on, I want to focus on you, on us, on me. Devon doesn't get to have any more of our lives."

Ariel gave a weak smile. "Devon who? I must've dreamed him up."

…

The two swam down to the palace dining hall, where Ariel had correctly assumed they would be congregating. The whole family, friends, and staff were gathered in this room, chatting with all the pep they now felt at the return of their beloved princess, and Eric as well. Artista was bravely regaling the tale of all that had happened, and Ariel would've felt a little worse about interrupting if she wasn't so confident that this was the eighth, maybe even eightieth time this story had been told.

"Ariel, Eric! So glad you're up!" Andrina swam towards them. "We've been talking with your friend."

"Gilda!" Ariel gasped, having almost forgot about the maid to whom she owed so much. "Gilda, oh, we're so glad you came."

Gilda gave her a half-smile. "Where else would I go?"

"That's why I asked you back." Ariel smiled at her. "Please, stay with us. After everything with Devon, I can't imagine that you'd want to go back. We owe you so much Gilda, please, come live with us."

Gilda mulled it over for a while, and then gave a slow nod. "I suppose, yes, that would be nice."

"Great!" Ariel exclaimed. "Daddy knows how to turn people into humans, and we can do that as soon as you're ready. You can come back when I visit, or stay on land, I'm not sure-"

"Land?" Gilda said with trepidation. "You mean, stop being a mermaid?"

Ariel paused. She had never considered hat Gilda wouldn't want to experience a new life. In fact, it was not really a common thought that other people might not live for adventure, for new things. She knew not everyone was cut out to be a human; her family had no desire to become humans, it wasn't a common goal among merpeople, but Ariel had always assumed that it was because they had too many ties down beneath the sea that they weren't willing to jeopardize, and nothing pulling them to the shore. Gilda had lost her job, her master, her home, and she was being offered an exciting new life…but she didn't want it. This concept was strange to Ariel, and she was forced to confront that perhaps not everyone faced their new worlds with the same boldness.

"You don't have to." Eric cut in. "We wouldn't dream of forcing you to do anything."

"In fact, you can stay with us." Adella piped up. "Right, daddy? You can live in the castle!"

"Of course. After everything you've done for our family and our Ariel, we would be honored to have you here." Triton said.

"I could be your maid." Gilda smiled at this. "Tidyin' up the finest home in Atlantica, havin' a room of my own…"

"Oh, nonsense." Alana flicked her hand. "You don't have to clean! You're a permanent guest, or at least, for as long as you please."

"If it wouldn't be too much of a bother," Gilda added. "I'd really like to clean. Nothing too difficult or intense, these bones are getting old, after all. But I've been cleaning up messes my whole life, and there's a sense of peace in it. A bit of laundry does a lot for me."

"Okay." Artista said kindly. She did not understand this perspective, but the woman seemed so sure, and so excited at the prospect of her new life, that no one wanted to deny her. "We'd love to have you."

Gilda sniffled a little, her world opening up to a bright, lit castle full of happy people. Doors had been opened, and as she finally looked up, she saw that arms had been as well.

Gilda swam forward to her new family, as they all wrapped their arms around her and sunk to the ground, under the weight of this newfound love.

…

Later that day, once Gilda was settled in and the family had had time to acclimate to each other, Ariel and Eric decided that it was time to head home. The whole family – which now included Gilda – went up with the couple to see them off. There were hugs and kisses and waves goodbye, but eventually Triton bestowed the golden spell on the two, and they were human once more, together.

As soon as they were on the beach, Ariel felt herself overwhelmed with excitement and took off running. But she had gone so long without her legs, that she fell down almost immediately.

"Are you okay?" Eric asked.

"Yes!" Ariel exclaimed, getting right back up. "I'm fine, I'm just not used to these right away." She laughed. "Oh, but it's so good to have them back."

Eric pulled her up and fully off of her feet, running with her back to the palace, where they flung open the doors.

"Carlotta!" Eric bellowed. "Grim!"

There was an immediate response, with people running into the main room; maids and servants, Carlotta and Grim, anyone who heard Eric bellow responded to his call.

"You're both back!" Carlotta burst into tears, taking the couple into a big bear hug.

"We are, we are, we are!" Ariel said, feeling her bottled emotions finally overwhelm her, and she too started tearing up.

"Eric…." Grim said, stepping forward. "No note, no message, you just up and left…"

Eric pushed his brows together. "I know Grim, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking, I – "

"And I'm just so glad you two are back."

…

Roughly a week later, it was the third of the month again, and a topic that would've reasonably been unbroachable was covered quite easily. You see, Ariel and Eric had been talking. More than ever before, and about everything. Even if it seemed like a topic didn't matter, or if it would've been fine to just leave it be, it was brought up and discussed. And so came the looming topic of exactly how the third of the month would be handled, floating in as if it was a conversational air.

"Tomorrow is the third." Eric had reminded her.

"I know." Said Ariel, chipperly. "I meant to bring that up with you soon, anyway."

"Do you want to go back still? I'm sure you miss your family, but I don't know if it'd be…scary for you."

"To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure it wouldn't be." Ariel conceded.

"Which is why I was also wondering if I could come with you."

"What do you mean?" Ariel asked, sincerely confused.

"I've been a merman for, I think I can cut it." Eric gave her a half smile. "All this time, you've been splitting your life between your family and me, between the land and the sea. I'd like to do what I can to bring those two worlds together, and I think a good step would be never making you choose between time with your family and time with me."

Ariel smiled over at him, taking three now-practiced steps to fling her arms around him. "Of course." She murmured into his shoulder. "I'd love to have you in both of my worlds."

The next morning they walked out to the calm ocean, hand in hand. The kingdom was still resting behind them, at peace as they had been for a bit now. Carlotta and Grimsby waved them off, promising to take as good care of the kingdom as they had done before. As the sun continued to rise, Ariel's sisters and father – and Gilda too! - popped out of the water waving and smiling, so happy that they had come. With a wave of his trident, two more merpeople were made, diving off to bond and explore every part of Atlantica. There was still a distinctive patch of scales missing on Eric's tail – a solemn cadence to events of the past, but how quickly Ariel diverted his attention back to the living world was a testament to the joys yet to come.


End file.
